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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513862">What happened after the All Valley (Even in southern California, the beach in the wintertime can be raw)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdyelo/pseuds/kdyelo'>kdyelo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Karate Kid (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Time, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Slow Burn, Teen Lawrusso, lawrusso</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 04:27:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdyelo/pseuds/kdyelo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months after the 1984 All-Valley Tournament, Johnny and Daniel overcome personal challenges and forge a new path for themselves after high school. </p><p> <em>”We are like water, aren’t we? We can be fluid, flexible when we have to be. But strong and destructive, too.” - Wally Lamb</em></p><p>This diverges <em>greatly</em> from canon after the ending of Karate Kid 1.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>232</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Another version of the truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I’m just getting back into practice now,”Daniel tells him. “I’m done with the crutches, and my knee is mostly healed up.” (Johnny winces inwardly.) “We could spar, if you want.”</p><p>Johnny’s eyes meet Daniel’s for the first time. <em>Is he serious? He’s serious.</em> “You’re inviting me to spar with you?”</p><p>“Sure. You could come by Miyagi’s. Check it out. Visit the bonsai.”</p><p>“The <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Little trees, man.”</p><p>.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h4>December.</h4><p>Johnny thinks about the night of the All Valley tournament often in the days that followed. While he has never been blessed with the gift of introspection, the shitshow with Kreese was a turning point for him. He thought he had found a mentor in Kreese, a stern sort of father figure who, he thought, believed in <em>him</em> and his <em>potential</em>  even when no one else did. He now sees that the man and his teachings were twisted, profane, counter to Johnny’s own inclination towards good sportsmanship and fair play. Kreese didn’t give a damn about him; he was just a fucked-up guy who taught his students fucked-up things.   Should Johnny try to forget how <em>fucked up</em> all of this is, his own reflection - bruised neck and burst-vesseled eyes and all the rest of it - is a powerful reminder. </p><p>Why did it have to get this bad, Johnny asks himself, before he figured it out? Six years of Johnny’s dedication, practice, devotion… wasted. It makes him sick. He feels like an idiot.</p><p>Now, six days later, he has not returned to the dojo. Hell, he hasn’t left his house, hardly leaves his room, and doesn’t plan to until his bruises fade and he’s back to normal again. He has no idea if Sensei – if <em>Kreese</em> is still teaching, after the man’s own humiliation by LaRusso’s sensei. He hopes not, but he knows some of the guys are going back, have gone back, have returned to their training as if nothing happened. Not Bobby, no, Bobby’s a decent guy. Maybe not Jimmy, he’s not sure. But Dutch is still there, and so is Tommy – aside from Johnny himself, they were the most loyal to Kreese, the last Cobra Kai die-hards. </p><p>Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Johnny wakes up gasping, imagining he is being choked. In his dreams, his friends don’t come to his aid, they just watch him struggle to breathe, then turn slowly away. His mother, bless her, asks him if he’s feeling ok, if he’s sleeping all right, wants to know why he isn’t coming down for dinner or going out to see his friends. She sees the dark circles under his eyes and worries because her normally-outgoing son is isolating himself. He assures her he is fine, just tired, just resting up for when spring semester starts. When Sid catches sight of him around the house, his stepfather just rolls his eyes.</p><p>After a week, his phone rings for the first time. Bobby’s on the other end of the line, asking him if he wants to hang out at the beach with the guys, like it’s any old day, like nothing happened. Johnny exhales, feels some of the tension leave his shoulders. He might not be top dog after losing the tournament to that little shit LaRusso, might not be a Cobra any more, but he still has at least one friend. He looks in the mirror and finds his eyes clear, his bruising nearly gone. “Yes,” he responds. He’ll be there.</p><p>Even in southern California, the beach in the wintertime can be raw. For Johnny, this is cold weather, hoodie and jeans required. He dons his leather jacket – not the red Cobra Kai one, but his plain black one – gloves, and helmet, and kickstarts his trusty Honda thumper. After days spent wallowing in his bedroom, the fresh, damp air feels fucking <em>glorious</em>, and he finds himself twisting the throttle with some of his old enthusiasm. This is good – this is what he needed. A couple of bottles of Coors clink around in his backpack as he pops the front wheel off the ground, just a bit. By the time he drops the kickstand and hangs his helmet off one handlebar, he feels like himself again. Eagerly, he walks the little stretch of boardwalk to their usual hangout spot. He sees Bobby and Tommy already there, passing a flask back and forth between them.</p><p>“Lawrence,” Bobby calls out first. “Where you been? You look like shit!”</p><p>“If I knew you cared, I woulda dressed up,” Johnny retorts. Tommy snorts appreciatively, passing him the flask. He takes a quick nip: “Yager? Classy.”</p><p>“What’s up,” Tommy greets him. “Been a while.”</p><p>Johnny shrugs. “Not much. You know.”</p><p>They sit in companionable silence for a minute. Johnny offers a Coors; both of his friends refuse, so he takes a long swallow, then twists the base of the bottle down into the sand, looking out at the water. It’s nearly dark; the last of the sunset stains the ocean blood-red as far as he can see, and the breeze has died.</p><p>“So,” Bobby starts. “That was a little fucked up. More than a little. Are you ok?”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine. No big deal.”</p><p>“Are you going back?”</p><p>“Hell, no.”</p><p>Bobby chuckles uneasily. “Me either.”</p><p>Tommy glances over at both of them, then returns his gaze to the water. “I went over there a couple of days ago,” he tells them. “Kreese is gone. Some new guy is in there. Silver. Says Kreese went to Tahiti?” Shrugs. “I don’t know what that means.”</p><p>Johnny and Bobby look at eachother, quickly look away.</p><p>“Dutch was there,” Tommy continues. “Like nothing was different. Saying ‘Yes sir, Sensei Silver’, ‘No sir, Sensei Silver’.” Tommy’s voice is pitched higher in mocking imitation. </p><p>They hear a car pull up – no muffler – speak of the devil.</p><p>“Hello ladies!” Dutch shouts over the sounds of the waves. “Your mom finally let you come out to play, Johnny?”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Johnny laughs, handing over one of his unopened beers.</p><p>Dutch accepts, pops the top, takes a long pull. “When are you coming back to the dojo,” Dutch asks him, pointedly ignoring Bobby, who is staring daggers at Dutch. Clearly, Dutch and Bobby have already had this discussion.</p><p>“About that –“ Johnny starts, and at the same time, Bobby interjects, “Dutch, don’t start –“</p><p>“Pfft. Pussies,” Dutch mutters. Tommy rolls his eyes.</p><p>A brief, uncomfortable silence, then,</p><p>“The big bad wolf is gone. You can come back. You and I will rule that dojo, man,” Dutch tells him earnestly. “Fuck that guy. Cobra Kai never dies.”</p><p>Johnny is hit by a sudden flash of memory, his throat burning, choking for air, Dutch turning away as black spots form in his vision. He inhales reflexively, hard, lets it out slowly. “I don’t know,” he replies. He doesn’t want to kill this night by spoiling the mood. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p>Dutch and Bobby study him, one with concern, the other suspicion. Tommy just keeps looking out at the horizon.</p>
<h4>February.</h4><p>Tommy arrives at Cobra Kai earlier than the other students, straight after school, because this week it’s his turn to set up the training room each day. Still in his street clothes, he leaves his shoes and socks by the door, sweeps the room, then drags the red mats out of storage and arrays them neatly across the floor. He hangs three training bags along the back wall before taking his duffel into the locker room to dress out. His gi is freshly washed and neatly pressed in accordance with Kreese’s teaching. Kreese may be gone, his replacement far less of a traditionalist when it comes to dojo etiquette, but Tommy enjoys the ritual. It makes him feel like his world is still orderly and predictable.</p><p>Now that it’s pretty clear Kreese is gone for good, most of the original crew have left, and only Tommy, Dutch, and a few others remain. A couple of new guys have joined, like Dennis, and that chucklehead who calls himself Snake. The new guys are in pretty tight with Sensei Silver. They all share these in-jokes that no one else gets, and they brought their own rules that they call the QuickSilver rules:</p><p><em>One: If an enemy can't stand, he can't fight.</em><br/>
<em>Two: If an enemy can't see, he can't fight.</em><br/>
<em>Three: If an enemy can't breathe, he can't fight.</em></p><p>A little long to paint on the wall, Tommy figures, but certainly memorable. Even Kreese, as ruthless as the bastard was, wasn’t quite this direct. Silver clearly idolizes Kreese, won’t stand for anyone talking shit about their old sensei, but Silver takes aggression to a whole different level than Kreese ever did. Every lesson is about ‘the fight’, ‘the street’, ‘the enemy’, and ‘the jungle’. Their new sensei makes it clear he intends to dominate the Valley, crush anything and anyone in their path. It’s all he talks about.</p><p>Tommy is exhilarated and uncomfortable in equal measures. He enjoys being a member of the toughest dojo in the valley, and, as one of the smaller guys, he likes the comfort of safety in numbers, likes that the other Cobras have his back. On the other hand, he doesn’t like it when Silver calls Johnny and Bobby traitors or pussies. He likes both of his old friends, and they still hang out sometimes. He also feels uncomfortable when Silver and Dutch call Daniel LaRusso ‘the enemy’. Daniel never did anything to Tommy, he just won fair and square. Silver also seems to have a serious grudge against Miyagi because of what the old man did to Kreese’s hands in the parking lot. Tommy is pretty sure Kreese deserved that beatdown – but he keeps that opinion to himself.</p><p>The other students filter in after Tommy is well into his stretching routine. Only when Dutch arrives, already dressed out, does Silver leave his office and call the class to order. “Form up. Up front,” Silver points at Dutch. “Get them warmed up.”</p><p>Dutch is the #1 guy now that Johnny is out. He struts to the front of the class, bows to Sensei Silver, then turns to the assembled students and bows. They bow back.</p>
<h4>March</h4><p>Back in school, two months to graduation, Johnny’s uncertain future marches inexorably closer. A B student with no serious black marks on his record, middle-of-the-road SAT scores, and a stepfather who is most certainly <em>not</em> footing his college tuition, Johnny is considering squeaking into a state school, or enlisting in one of the armed services. He knows he doesn’t want to hang around the valley if he can help it, and he knows losing the tournament and quitting the dojo destroyed any chance he may have had at a karate scholarship.</p><p>He sees the guys around school most days. Bobby remains a solid friend, but spends more and more time at his church, volunteering and teaching Sunday school to fill the gaping hole in his schedule that karate left behind. Tommy will still go drinking with him when Bobby won’t, and it almost feels like the old days – until Tommy starts talking about Cobra Kai. Dutch skips school more often that not, and Johnny wonders, not for the first time, if Dutch will graduate with the rest of his class. He hears Dutch is spending more and more time at the dojo, or out in the woods practicing some Silver-created combination of martial arts and jungle combat.</p><p>Some of the shit Tommy tells him about Silver’s training sounds weird. Tommy shows up at his house one Saturday with his hands bandaged. When Johnny asks him what happened, Tommy explains they’re spending entire class sessions punching and kicking wooden training dummies to toughen up their hands and shins. Another time, the entire dojo retreats to the woods for a long weekend of camping, overland navigation training, and guerrilla warfare simulation. Silver showed them how to paint their faces for camouflage “from the gooks”, then they all dug a pit and lined it with sharpened stakes like some kind of a booby trap. Johnny thinks Vietnam warped Silver in the same way it warped Kreese. He also thinks about finding another dojo. In the three months since the tournament, he’s gotten out of shape, soft. Christ, he misses it sometimes. </p><p>Unfortunately, he also sees LaRusso and Ali just about every day, holding hands in the hallway or leaning across one another’s lockers. Johnny is over Ali, hardly even thinks about her any more, but it still rankles him sometimes that LaRusso took his win <em>and</em> his girl. Still, he grudgingly respects the kid. Daniel stood up to his crew, stupid as it may have been, withstood their bullshit bullying, and had the balls to show up to the All-Valley Tournament with all of three months of training under his belt. Maybe he won by a fluke, maybe the judges overlooked that borderline-illegal kick to the head, but he won nonetheless. Johnny thinks he’s all right, all things considered.</p><p>He’d kind of like a rematch, though.</p>
<h4>April.</h4><p>It’s senior picture day, and the entire graduating class is lined up alphabetically by last name. The queue stretches out through the auditorium doors and down the hallway. </p><p>Right in the middle of the line is LaRusso with a capital “L”.  Next in line is Lawrence – Johnny Lawrence. Daniel gruffs out a quiet “hey” and awkwardly shuffles his feet. Johnny glances behind him and spots Ali, two blocks of lockers behind them. Next to her, Tommy wears his Cobra Kai jacket. Johnny hasn’t seen Dutch in several days, hasn’t spoken to him in longer than that.</p><p>Daniel looks Johnny up and down, considers, then breaks their uncomfortable silence. “Hey, Johnny. Not wearing Cobra colors in your senior picture? Is that even allowed?” </p><p>Johnny’s first impulse is to shut Daniel up with a sarcastic retort, but he resolves not to be an ass today. Instead, he shrugs. “I quit.”</p><p>“Huh.” Daniel is briefly stunned into silence. “Why?”</p><p>Johnny thinks about that for a moment. He knows Daniel isn’t dumb; he saw what Kreese did and must have some idea why Johnny quit. Involuntarily, the memory of that night replays through his mind. He clears his throat, unconsciously rubs at his neck, before realizing he’s been standing there, staring into space like an idiot, for several seconds.</p><p>“Still in there, Johnny?” Daniel prodded.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny considers that Daniel is one of a very few who might understand about Kreese. “You saw what happened, after. That night. I couldn’t go back after that.”</p><p>Daniel nods slowly.</p><p>“He left, though,” Johnny continues. “Some new guy took over.” Why is he still talking?</p><p>“But you didn’t go back,” Daniel observes. “Do you miss it?”</p><p>“Yeah, every fucking day,” Johnny laughs ruefully. “And I’m in shitty shape. I doubt I could run a mile right now.”</p><p>“So I could outrun you this time,” Daniel teases him, and Johnny feels a little bad about that reminder. When had he turned into such a dick?</p><p>“Maybe. I’ll give you a head start this time, LaRusso.”</p><p>The line inches forward, nudging them into the auditorium. On the stage, two photographers pose their subjects before identical backdrops.</p><p>“I’m just getting back into practice now,”Daniel tells him. “I’m done with the crutches, and my knee is mostly healed up.” (Johnny winces inwardly.) “We could spar, if you want.”</p><p>Johnny’s eyes meet Daniel’s for the first time. <em>Is he serious? He’s serious.</em> “You’re inviting me to spar with you?”</p><p>“Sure. You could come by Miyagi’s. Check it out. Visit the bonsai.”</p><p>“The <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Little trees, man.”</p><p>“Uh… sure. Ok.”</p><p>…</p><p>A few days later, Johnny screws up his courage and rides the Honda over to the address LaRusso had scribbled on a piece of paper for him on picture day. He’s in plain black karate pants and a t-shirt because he feels uncomfortable wearing any of his Cobra-embellished gi to spar with LaRusso, like it would be bad luck to drag any more past drama behind him than he already does.</p><p>When he walks through the gates from the little gravel courtyard, he’s surprised by the landscaped backyard with its pond, statuary, lanterns carved from stone, and elevated walkways between the grassy hillocks. It looks like a park, completely unexpected given the home’s modest appearance from the street. He’s walked over to one of the stone lanterns and is puzzling over whether it lights up when LaRusso finds him. “Those are called tōrō,” he says. “I’ve never seen Mr Miyagi light any of them.”</p><p>“That’s cool,” he replies. Now that he’s here, he’s not sure what to do, how any of this should go. LaRusso is just standing there, appearing more confident than he ever does at school, looking him over with his neutral expression and guileless brown eyes. “Uh, is Mr Miyagi around?”</p><p>“Sensei is here, he’s in with the bonsai. Come on.”</p><p>The little trees, right. His erstwhile rival leads him to a little workshop area, semi-detached from the back of the house, where the old man is nipping away at a miniature, potted juniper with a similarly-tiny set of shears. All around the inside of the workshop, and on wooden benches scattered around the patio, are several more of the trees. Despite himself, Johnny is fascinated. “Are these a special kind of tree? Or, normal trees that you forced to stay small?”</p><p>The old man pauses in his work and looks up at him coolly. “John. Welcome.” His voice is gruff as he turns back to his work. </p><p>Johnny reflexively bows as he retreats from the man and his workshop. </p><p>LaRusso shrugs. “He might take a little time to warm up to you. You know. He’ll come around eventually. Maybe. Anyway, we can start anytime you want. You ready?”</p><p>Johnny’s feeling a little deflated by this chilly reception but he’s determined to see this thing through. He’s not a quitter. He’s also looking forward to some practice; it will feel good to get his body back into motion. “I’m ready,” he replies.</p><p>…</p><p>The next time he drives over, LaRusso is nowhere in sight. Miyagi motions him into the workshop. Nervously, Johnny jogs over and follows the old man into the small space. Inside, it smells like pine needles and dirt.</p><p>A small pair of scissors is unceremoniously pressed into his hand, and the older man motions towards one of the trees, a juniper like the one he was working on the first time he visited. He’s at one side of the work table; Miyagi moves to the other side. They both look down at the tree for a quiet moment, then the old sensei snips a tiny branch at its junction to the trunk. Johnny looks at it, then at the old man, then at the tree again. He can’t see a reason for that particular snip but he’s nonetheless certain there’s a reason. He keeps watching.</p><p>Miyagi nips another twig, then another. After a few minutes of this, Johnny thinks he sees a pattern, an underlying structure, starting to emerge. He looks up at the old sensei, who makes eye contact with him for the first time, then dips his head towards the tree in silent invitation.</p><p>Johnny leans in closer, considers, makes his own snip, then another. The old man grunts, and it sounds like approval.</p><p>When LaRusso arrives twenty minutes later, he finds both men working quietly across the table from each other. Mr Miyagi has given the first tree entirely over to Johnny and started on another.</p><p>…</p><p>Saturday afternoon, Johnny arrives for his third visit. He’s getting off the Honda and securing his helmet when he hears a car pull into the courtyard behind him. He turns, and it’s LaRusso’s old yellow Ford. LaRusso himself is in the passenger seat and Ali is driving; Johnny knows from long experience how badly she drives and experiences a nasty little burst of schadenfreude at the visible stress in his sparring partner’s face. </p><p>Johnny is over Ali, finally, hasn’t thought about her for weeks, but it’s still unpleasant to run into them together, especially when he isn’t expecting it. They’ve clearly just come from the beach; both are windblown, and LaRusso’s olive skin is glowing with the beginnings of a summer tan. He can smell the Coppertone from where he’s standing when they start making out in the car. Ali aims a sharp look at Johnny that clearly says she sees him, she doesn’t like him, and she wants to make sure <em>he</em> gets a good look at <em>them</em>. Johnny escapes this unpleasantness by hightailing it into Miyagi’s courtyard. Daniel isn’t far behind; he has the grace to look a little embarrassed as he heads for the house to shower and dress.</p><p>Johnny takes a moment to regain his calm and reflect on the fact LaRusso has the poor judgment to actually allow Ali to drive off in that beautiful classic car by herself. He’s feeling a little better now. Just as well someone else has to deal with her bullshit.</p><p>Mr Miyagi walks out into the courtyard to greet him, a first for any of Johnny’s visits. He stops a few feet away, looks up and studies Johnny closely. “Before begin training,” he announces, “I teach you to break chokehold.” He nods decisively at Johnny and waits.</p><p>Johnny mentally short-circuits. His face feels like a stiff mask and his heart races. His feet are frozen in place. He’s staring at the little man with a horror he knows he can’t rationally justify.</p><p>Miyagi closes the distance between them. Shockingly, he reaches up to clasp both sides of his face in his rough hands, inspects his eyes closely, then releases him. “Can’t do this, then not ready.” </p><p>Johnny flees for the courtyard and his Honda. It takes him an hour to force himself to ride back to Miyagi’s and make his feet carry him into the courtyard. He and LaRusso are running through their katas but stop when they see Johnny, giving each other a significant look. Fine, so they’ve discussed him while he was gone. He can deal with that.</p><p>Miyagi motions him close. “First, we meditate. Then, we start.” He pats Johnny encouragingly on the shoulder.</p><p>“All right, sensei,” he agrees.</p><p>It’s not easy to get through it, but he does. He struggles to make himself allow close physical contact from a teacher again, and fights to set past experience aside so he can focus on the current moment. The meditation helps him self-calm when he gets overwhelmed. Miyagi is more patient with him than Kreese ever was, yet he’s very firm and formal when it comes to technique and the practice of his martial art.</p><p>Finally, they stop, and Miyagi asks him when he last trained.</p><p>“Not since the tournament.” Several yards away, LaRusso is back in his street clothes, watching them inscrutably.</p><p>“You’ve done well today,” Miyagi judges. “Come tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yes, sensei.” Both bow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Underneath it all</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He’s still not used to seeing Johnny’s car parked in Sensei’s little courtyard, isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to the sight of his former nemesis practicing forms in the old man’s back yard. Johnny and Mr Miyagi are forming their own teacher-student relationship, and sometimes it doesn’t feel fair. Johnny Lawrence already has so many things he doesn’t – that tall muscular stature, those golden California looks, the big house in the hills, the trendy clothes and popularity – and now Daniel has to share his sensei with him, too? He knows Miyagi would not approve of his jealousy and resentment, so he tries to tamp it down, be the bigger man.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning after prom, Ali blew the radiator in Daniel’s old Ford convertible and dumped him unceremoniously for another man, so he’s already in an emotional tailspin when, the next week, his mom summons him to their little dinette table for a ‘family meeting’ after her evening shift. In tears, Lucille tells him Daniel’s uncle, his father’s brother, is dying of cancer, alone, in New Jersey. The most important thing in life is family, she continues. Her computer programming job in Reseda fell through as soon as they’d arrived, and she’s barely been able to keep their heads above water on a restaurant manager’s salary in the outskirts of Los Angeles. She is exhausted, she tells him, on her feet 16 hours a day, six days a week. There is nothing for Lucille in L.A.</p><p>She intends to buy out their apartment lease, pack up the car, and drive them both back to Newark. They’ll leave as soon as they’re packed.</p><p>“Ma, come on!” he protests. “I graduate high school in one month! One month!”</p><p>Lucille sighs. She’s in tears already. He is about to break down himself. He hears his own voice pitch up into the stratosphere and crack, like he’s thirteen and going through puberty all over again.</p><p>“I can’t miss a week of school to take some road trip all the way back to New Jersey, then try to study for finals in brand new classes in two weeks! I’ll flunk! You know I will!”</p><p>“What else can we do?” she cries. </p><p>“I don’t know, ma,” he replies miserably. He knows she’s right. He sees the hours his mom works, knows she has made no friends, has no time for herself. They’re barely making rent. They don’t have health insurance. His gut twists with guilt.</p><p>“Not even a year ago, you <em>begged</em> me to take you back east.”</p><p>He shrugs.</p><p>“Daniel, he’s dying. He has the same kind of cancer your father had. He needs help.” His ma sobs. “I need help.”</p><p>“Ma.” The dam bursts and he’s in her arms, crying, as though he’s a child again. Uncle Louie is his favorite uncle. He knows she’s right; they have to go home.</p><p>…</p><p>The next day, after school, he rides his bicycle to Miyagi’s house to give him the news. </p><p>He’s still not used to seeing Johnny’s car parked in Sensei’s little courtyard, isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to the sight of his former nemesis practicing forms in the old man’s back yard. Johnny and Mr Miyagi are forming their own teacher-student relationship, and sometimes it doesn’t feel fair. Johnny Lawrence already has so many things he doesn’t – that tall muscular stature, those golden California looks, the big house in the hills, the trendy clothes and popularity – and now Daniel has to share his sensei with him, too? He knows Miyagi would not approve of his jealousy and resentment, so he tries to tamp it down, be the bigger man. If he has to leave California anyway, he tells himself, maybe it’s good for Miyagi to have a new protégé in the wings.</p><p>They give eachother an awkward little wave as Daniel trots across the yard and into Miyagi’s workshop, where the older man is unpacking one of several cardboard boxes.</p><p>“Daniel-san!” he calls. “Come. Take this.” He deposits a stack of shallow clay pots into Daniel’s arms and points him towards the utility sink.</p><p>“Yeah, ok, hey Mr Miyagi, weren’t these at the South Seas?” He’s looking at the chimes now hanging by the door leading to the rest of the house. “Your chair! Why is all this stuff here?” He deposits the pots next to the sink with a clatter.</p><p>“I got fired,” his mentor states casually.</p><p>“What?!” Daniel shouts.</p><p>“What?” Johnny interjects from the doorway, patting the sweat from his face with a towel.</p><p>Daniel huffs, stares back at Miyagi. “Why?”</p><p>“South Seas, going away,” he explains. “Make fancy condos.”</p><p>“What? When?” Daniel demands.</p><p>“LaRusso, you <em>live</em> there,” Johnny replies. He drapes the towel over one shoulder and leans against the frame of the door. “How do you not know about this?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Daniel responds shortly. He redirects his attention to Mr Miyagi. “Listen, I have something to tell you too.” </p><p>“What?” Miyagi asks. “What?” Johnny asks, simultaneously. </p><p>Daniel rolls his eyes. “We’re moving back to New Jersey.”</p><p>That does it – the little workshop falls silent and both occupants stare at him.</p><p>“Now?” Johnny finally inquires. “That’s ridiculous. We graduate in three weeks. We have finals. You can’t just drop out now.”</p><p>“I’m touched,” Daniel retorts. “Didn’t know you cared.”</p><p>“Fuck you, Danielle.”</p><p>Miyagi grunts in disapproval at Johnny’s language.</p><p>“Sorry, sensei.”</p><p>“It’s my uncle Louie. And my mom,” Daniel explains to them both. “He has cancer, and mom is barely making ends meet in Reseda. And, I guess, we’d lose our apartment anyway? So. Back to Newark. We leave this weekend.”</p><p>The old sensei levels a look at him. “Daniel-san, stay here. Finish high school. Then decide. Tell your mother.”</p><p>Daniel is shocked. “Are you serious?”</p><p>Ten minutes later, he’s dashing out the door and into the passenger seat of Johnny’s car, the answer to all of his problems buoying his heart on a happy little wave. Johnny drives him to his apartment, radio cranked loud, to clear it with his ma. </p><p>This is why, Saturday morning, Daniel is hugging Lucille goodbye.</p><p>“I love you,” she tells him at the very end of their goodbyes. “Don’t you ever forget that!”</p><p>After, he loads his backpack and a duffel full of clothes into the old Ford Super Deluxe that he finally has back on the road, post-Ali. With a little cash in his wallet and his mother’s strict instructions to <em>be good and don’t give Mr Miyagi any trouble</em>, he drives over to Sensei’s little home, now his home, and settles in. </p><p>…</p><p>Later Saturday afternoon, he and Johnny are sparring lightly in the fenced back yard. It’s a balmy 80 degrees in mid-May, and both boys are working up a mild sweat in their street clothes and bare feet. Miyagi has driven over to his office at the apartments to sign his final paperwork and retrieve the last of his things.</p><p>Johnny is on offense, throwing punches and kicks at a lazy half-speed while Daniel blocks. To an outsider, it’s a choreographed dance. For them, it’s an exercise in form and technique. Daniel has also told Johnny what happened with Ali, and something about the personal admission, the sharing of another common experience, dispells the tension between them. Johnny didn’t even give LaRusso shit about being dumped; Daniel admires his restraint. It’s a growth moment for both of them.</p><p>“It’s pretty cool your mom is letting you stay here,” Johnny tells him, lunging at his face with his elbow.</p><p>Daniel diverts Johnny’s elbow with his forearm. “I know, right? I can study for finals, graduate on schedule, and get some more time with Mr Miyagi. No stress.”</p><p>Johnny attempts a backhanded strike. “Less stress.”</p><p>“True.” Daniel blocks with his other arm, then follows the motion through with a roundhouse kick at Johnny’s torso.</p><p>Johnny catches his leg, then makes eye contact with Daniel and notices the flash of fear. He pats LaRusso’s knee gently and releases the hold.</p><p>Daniel bounces back a step. “You’re all right, Lawrence.”</p><p>…</p><p>Sunday afternoon, Johnny and Bobby meet up in the parking lot of their favorite ‘friendly’ convenience store, where Johnny knows the clerk will accept his fake ID. He buys a sixpack of Coors, and they both ride in Bobby’s car over to the beach.</p><p>“You’re not usually around on Sundays,” Johnny observes. “I thought it was all church all the time for you.”</p><p>“I’m taking some time off to study,” Bobby tells him. “My acceptance into divinity college is contingent on my final grades.”</p><p>“That’s really cool,” Johnny reflects. “I’m proud of you. Taking the next step, getting out of the Valley.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Bobby replies, looking pleased. “What about you? Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”</p><p>“Not yet. I don’t know if I’m ready for college. I haven’t put in any applications. I don’t think I can afford it.”</p><p>Bobby, who knows about the situation with Sid, nods in sympathy. “At least you’re graduating.”</p><p><em>Unlike Dutch, that jackass</em>, Johnny thinks, knowing Bobby is thinking the same. “What is his deal, Bobby? I haven’t seen him in a couple of months. He doesn’t hang out with us any more. Does he talk to you?”</p><p>“I still see him sometimes. He’s spending a lot of time over at Terry Silver’s house. Did you know he is seriously rich? Not rich like your stepdad, <em>really</em> rich, like Bill Gates, or that family that owns Walmart. He has a mansion, a bunch of cars, servants, bodyguards. I heard he has a personal chef just to cook for him. Some of the guys in the dojo are living with him now.”</p><p>Johnny is nonplussed. He finally asks, “Why is a guy that rich spending so much time at a karate dojo?” He can’t imagine a rich nerd like Bill Gates hanging out with a teenaged karate team. Wouldn’t he have better things to do, like roll around in $100 bills, or buy a yacht?</p><p>“So that’s the thing,” Bobby explains. “Kreese was his martial arts instructor while they were both in Vietnam. Terry will do anything for Kreese. He’s the one who funded Kreese when he started Cobra Kai. He paid for Kreese to go to Thailand, Tahiti, wherever. It’s a… loyalty thing. Like blood brothers.”</p><p>Johnny notes with some interest that Bobby isn’t calling Terry Silver ‘Sensei’. He, in turn, has not told Bobby he is training with Sensei Miyagi and LaRusso. It’s not that he’s <em>ashamed</em> or anything. It would just be hard for him to explain to anyone who knew him as the head student at Cobra Kai, the ex-degenerate bad boy. He feels like a different person now.</p><p>“I could hook you up with a job this summer,” Bobby offers. “My dad runs a landscaping company. They’re always looking for people, and they pay a pretty good hourly rate.”</p><p>Johnny imagines mowing grass and digging ditches for people like Sid. He’s never had an after-school job, nor have any of his friends. His mom wanted him to focus on school, and he always had plenty of money from his mom - well, from Sid <em>through</em> his mom - to buy anything he wanted. He spent his afternoon and weekend time on karate, drinking, and dirtbiking. Johnny thinks about how Sid calls him a deadbeat, says he’s growing up to be a loser and a burnout, and decides that, finally, it’s time for him to make a change. If he ever wants to stop depending on Sid’s money, get his own place, and make something of himself outside of karate, he has to do <em>something</em>.</p><p>“Thanks,” he tells Bobby. “I’d like that.”</p><p>Bobby nods and takes a long drink. “There’s something else,” he says, after a long moment.</p><p>Johnny studies him. Bobby looks serious, even grave. ”What is it? What happened?”</p><p>“Sometimes, the way Dutch and Silver talk about you… well, you should be careful.”</p><p>Johnny feels a chill. He doesn’t know anything about Terry Silver, but Dutch – they were best friends for years. What reason does Dutch have to talk shit about him with Silver? “What are you talking about?”</p><p>Bobby sighs. “They blame you for losing the All Valley.”</p><p>“…ok?”</p><p>“And for destroying the reputation of Cobra Kai.”</p><p>Johnny rolls his eyes.</p><p>“And when you quit, they called you a traitor.”</p><p>For the second time that day, Johnny is speechless for a moment. “That’s nuts.”</p><p>“I just think… you need to look out. Stay away from those guys.”</p><p>“Jesus, Bobby. Ok.”</p><p>Bobby nods uncomfortably.</p><p>…</p><p>Closing in on the end of the school year, Daniel is feeling pretty good about his upcoming finals. In Mr Miyagi’s tidy home and calming presence, he feels balanced and relaxed. His teacher doesn’t own a television, so he has plenty of peace and quiet to study. Between study sessions, they enjoy daily practice and meditation, and the rest of the time, Daniel is on his own. He helps the older man with housework and errands, grocery shopping and cooking. His life is at a crossroads, between the end of high school, his mother’s departure, his uncle’s illness, and his own undefined future, but at least for the moment, Mr Miyagi’s home is an island of quiet routine.</p><p>He sees Johnny less often now that Johnny has started working for the landscaping company. Even so, they squeeze in a couple of practice sessions a week. More surprisingly, one night, Johnny hesitantly approached Daniel to ask him to help study for his calculus final. Miyagi found the two young men huddled companionably over an open math textbook and a large pepperoni pizza. He nodded his approval.</p><p>“Daniel-san, you have become fine teacher. Johnny, fine student.”</p><p>Daniel is thankful Johnny has gone home for the night, and isn’t there to hear this assessment. “I know. Last year, I wouldn’t have believed Johnny and I would be studying together or practicing karate together. I was so afraid of him.” He shakes his head.</p><p>“Johnny-san had a very bad teacher,” Miyagi tells him. “Bad teacher make bad student.”</p><p>Daniel remembers when Kreese openly threatened both Miyagi and Daniel that first day in the Cobra Kai dojo, and how he taught his students his merciless philosophy. He considers how Johnny froze up in their senior photo line, and again at Miyagi’s, when the Kreese thing came up, and thinks about how hard Johnny worked through training to overcome the aftermath of it. Most of all, he thinks about how Johnny had already changed and gentled since he left Cobra Kai, and he did that all on his own.</p><p>“Johnny <em>is</em> a good student,” Daniel agrees. “Maybe even a friend.”</p><p>“Maybe a good teacher too,” Miyagi says.</p><p>Daniel stares at him, confused.</p><p>“Johnny-san better than you at karate,” the old man chuckles.</p><p>He groans.</p><p>…</p><p>Several days later, an airmail envelope arrives at the house from Okinawa. Daniel arrives after school to find the older man sitting at his little kitchen table with the letter opened, a resigned look on his face.</p><p>“Mr Miyagi, you got a letter?” It has never occurred to Daniel that his sensei has family or friends back in Okinawa, until now. And now that it’s in his mind, he is dying of curiosity. Who has written his teacher? What could the letter say? Why does Miyagi look worried?</p><p>“This is bad news,” he replies.</p><p>Daniel sits down across from him, gently settles his backpack at his feet, and listens.</p><p>“My father is very ill. I must go home and pay my respects.”</p><p>Although he won’t be proud of this later, in that moment, he is more than anything else surprised that, (a) Miyagi has a father, and (b) his father is still alive. In Daniel’s imagination, Miyagi is both ancient and ageless, more an element of nature than a man. He has never imagined his teacher as a child, or a young man, with a family and friends.</p><p>Daniel also thinks back to his last weeks with his father in New Jersey. He was very young back then, young enough that many of his memories are hazy, but old enough that he understood what was happening. He still remembers the antiseptic smell of the hospital room and the sound of his mother weeping. He does not wish that experience on his worst enemy, much less his sensei.</p><p>In the present, the old man looks sadder than Daniel has ever seen him. </p><p>“Your mother?”</p><p>“My mother is gone, many years ago.”</p><p>He does what Miyagi has done for him so many times when he needed consolation; he heads for the kitchen to put on a kettle of water for tea.</p><p>“When do you leave?” Daniel asks from the kitchen.</p><p>“Friday,” Miyagi answers somberly. It’s Wednesday.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mr Miyagi,” Daniel tells him, carrying in two teacups and an infuser filled with loose black tea leaves. The kettle is only now starting to steam. “I can take care of your house and water the bonsai. You don’t have to worry about anything here.”</p><p>His teacher nods somberly. “Yes, Daniel-san, I know. You will take care.”</p><p>Later, he and Miyagi are flipping through a lovingly-preserved collection of photos and articles together. Uncharacteristically, Mr Miyagi has brought out the sake, and is about as loose as Daniel has ever seen him, aside from that one night, months ago, when Daniel had visited his teacher on the anniversary of his wife’s death. Daniel has had a couple of cups of sake himself, and is laughing uproariously at a photo of Miyagi as a young schoolboy in short pants and a little collared shirt. </p><p>“This boy,”  Miyagi points to a schoolmate in one of the photos, “was my very best friend. Then, when I was a young man, I fell in love with a beautiful girl.” He lifts another photo out of a storage box; this photo shows a slender, teenage girl with her hair in a loose bun, dressed in a modest pinafore. “She was promised to another boy, to marry. My best friend.” He pats both photos reverently. “This is why I left Okinawa.”</p><p>“Wow.” Daniel is flabbergasted. “Did you ever go back?”</p><p>“Never went back. Went to America, then to war.”</p><p>As though on cue, both hear a dirtbike ride up into the courtyard. “Johnny-san!” Miyagi shouts, and lurches up on unsteady legs to throw open the front door. “Come in! Come in!”</p><p>Johnny is still in his work pants and boots when he reaches the doorway, stripping off his gloves while standing in the threshold. Hopping on one foot as he tugs at the other boot, he calls in. “What’s this, a party?” He notices the tall bottle of cold sake, the half-full ceramic cups, and Daniel’s flushed glow, and<em> ahhhs</em>. “This <em>is</em> a party.”</p><p>The old man totters into the kitchen, retrieves another bottle and a third cup. “Come, come. My farewell party. I’m going home.”</p><p>Daniel notices Johnny’s alarmed expression. “He’s just going for a few days. His father is ill.”</p><p>“…huh.” He finally manages to wrestle the second boot off his other foot, then sits down on the other side of the sofa from Daniel, next to Miyagi and his box of photos. “What do we have here.” He fills the third cup with the rice wine, then liberally tops up their two cups. He sips, wrinkles his nose.</p><p>Daniel peers over Miyagi’s head at Johnny, and for the first time takes appreciative notice of his friend’s bright blond hair and clear blue eyes. “Johnny,” he declares boldly, “has anyone ever told you you’re… pretty?”</p><p>Mr Miyagi roars with laughter.</p><p>His mouth twitches. “How much have you had to drink, LaRusso?”</p><p>“Enough,” Daniel acknowledges.</p><p>Johnny can’t hold back his off-kilter grin. “Well, Danielle, we’d better order you two some takeout, or you’re gonna have a bad time.”</p><p>Before Johnny leaves, well after dark, Miyagi has pulled them both in close, an arm around each of their shoulders, and very seriously instructed them to look after each other. “You are like sons to me,” the older man tells them, and Daniel swears his teacher is getting a little teary-eyed. </p><p>“Yes, sensei,” each of them agrees.</p><p>Johnny and Daniel half-support and half-carry the man to his bed. When their eyes meet, each feels a little connective spark neither of them can interpret.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Note warning at top of the next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Eraser</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hey, Daniel LaRusso,” a voice calls from the deepening twilight. “Haven’t seen you since the tournament,” Dutch continues with a false joviality. “How have you been? How’s that knee?”</p><p>Daniel feels a little shiver of discomfort. While the inquiry sounds innocuous enough, he senses the threat under the surface of the words. He has also become uncomfortably aware that the other beachgoers are gone, and he and the three Cobras are alone.</p><p>“Oh, I’m good,” he replies. “Just getting a little fresh air. I was about to pack up and head back.”</p><p>“Back to where,” Dutch coos, and Daniel realizes he is, indeed, in deep shit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning: traumatic rape/noncon. It is not graphically described.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel helps his teacher load his suitcases into the back of his little pickup truck early Friday morning, in the pre-dawn gloom. He’s concerned about his old sensei, and, selfishly, he already feels very alone. At least for a week, he has Miyagi’s place to himself, and only that one week of final exams stands between him and graduation.</p><p>Miyagi has left him pages of instructions – plant and garden watering schedules, emergency phone numbers, the address of his father in Okinawa, stretching and exercise schedules, even a couple of recipes. He has also set out his tools, arrayed all of the cars’ keys on the kitchen counter, and shown Daniel where he keeps his important papers. Daniel feels a little overwhelmed with the responsibility, the heavy weight of the trust his sensei has placed on his shoulders.</p><p>Miyagi’s parting words: “Be good. No parties, no girls.”</p><p>“Good luck, Mr Miyagi,” Daniel replies. “Don’t get into any fights back home.”</p><p>At school, excitement simmers through the student body, especially among the seniors, who are looking forward to exams and graduation, and also to the greatest circuit of parties any of them have ever experienced. Between the rich kids’ catered house parties in the hills, the valley kids’ illicit beachside keggers, the jocks’ tailgate hangouts and the stoner’s excursions into the trees, everyone’s dance card is full.</p><p>This is not true for Daniel, of course. After Ali broke up with him, Daniel came out on the losing end of the social dynamic, with any acquaintances-in-common aligning with Ali. He’s still just the new guy in town. Even though his All Valley tournament victory has endeared him to a very specific subset of fanboys and fangirls, that popularity has not carried over into high school society in any way that’s beneficial for him. He has no new friends, admirers, fans, or party invites. He has long since resigned himself to a quiet weekend of study, junk food, and solo practice. He knows even Johnny will be diverted elsewhere this weekend, no matter their nascent friendship.</p><p>He eats his lunch outside, alone, and goes directly to Miyagi’s after school. To replace his usual background noise of the television, he flips the radio on, dials in a top-40 music station and turns the volume low while he reviews his notes for Monday’s calculus exam. The radio reminds him of Ali and that first night on the beach when Johnny trashed her boombox; his study material brings to his mind that one evening he and Johnny studied together. He feels fond and warm without being entirely sure why.</p><p>Friday night, he sleeps well, better than he has in weeks, and wakes up to find it is mid-morning, 10am, by the sun streaming through his window in Miyagi’s little second bedroom. He gets up, showers, makes himself a mug of instant coffee liberally lightened with cream and sugar, and spends some quality time trimming and watering the little trees.</p><p>He wonders what his sensei is doing in Japan. The old man should have arrived last night, slept in his childhood home, and woken up to a new day. He knows Okinawa is several hours’ time difference from California’s time zone, but he can’t remember if it’s behind or ahead. There is no way to make a phone call given the expense, and it will take days for a letter to cross the ocean. The truth is, Daniel is very much on his own, and today, for the first time, he feels it. It’s both exhilarating – in the sense he can do whatever he likes – and a little frightening. He could call his mother, but he doesn’t want to worry her. Of course, Lucille has no idea Miyagi has flown home. Daniel is determined to keep it that way.</p><p>By mid-afternoon, he is <em>out of his mind</em> with boredom. All of those mindfulness lessons of Miyagi’s fall by the wayside, and it is too nice of an afternoon to consider cracking a book. Instead, Daniel decides, it’s a great time to head to the ocean and go for a swim. He takes the old yellow Ford, wearing his swim trunks and flip flops, certain the shore will be packed with teens like him. He’s not wrong.</p><p>…</p><p>Dutch, Tommy, and Snake are already at the beach. The three started the afternoon surfing before making a less-than-graceful transition into an evening of drinking around their hastily-constructed firepit. Dutch notices a slender figure about 50 yards up the beach, and nudges Tommy in the ribs. “Is that who I think it is?” he goads.</p><p>Tommy follows his lead, and agrees. “Indeed, it is. 1984 All Valley Tournament champion, Daniel LaRusso, Italian Stallion. The Cobra Killer himself, in the flesh.”</p><p>Snake looks up from his plastic bottle of rotgut. He’s already well down the road to sloppy drunkenness. “Who? That skinny little shit?”</p><p>Dutch nods. “That’s him.”</p><p>Snake laughs derisively. “Jesus Christ, <em>that’s</em> the kid who took out Kreese’s favorite boy? He looks like he’s about twelve. What kind of dojo was that guy running, anyway?”</p><p>This rankles Dutch, Tommy can tell. Dutch’s eyes, already leaden with cheap beer, roll towards Snake. “We had him,” he defends. “I could have taken him out. He got a lucky break when he landed that kick on Johnny-“</p><p>“Whatever,” Snake replies. “A loser is a loser. And you guys were losers. No wonder Terry had to come in and clean up this shithole.”</p><p>Tommy feels a dull, embarrassed heat rise to his cheeks, and watches Dutch flush angrily over on the other side of the fire. Dutch’s gaze follows Snake’s to the olive-skinned teenager, who is obliviously staring out at the ocean horizon as the sun disappears.</p><p>“Hey,” Dutch suddenly says. “Let’s go say hello.”</p><p>Tommy’s stomach clenches when Dutch rises to his feet. No good will come of this. Nevertheless, he stands and follows his friend.</p><p>…</p><p>“Hey, Daniel LaRusso,” a voice calls from the deepening twilight. Daniel starts up in surprise – the voice is familiar, though not friendly. He knows Dutch very well by sight after the shenanigans of the fall. He recognizes one of the other young men as another member of Kreese’s dojo, one of Johnny’s old crew. The third man, well behind the other two, is unfamiliar.</p><p>“Hey,” he answers, trying and failing to hide his nervousness. He waits.</p><p>“Haven’t seen you since the tournament,” Dutch continues with a false joviality. “How have you been? How’s that knee?”</p><p>Daniel feels a little shiver of discomfort. While the inquiry sounds innocuous enough, he senses the threat under the surface of the words. He has also become uncomfortably aware that the other beachgoers are gone, and he and the three Cobras are alone.</p><p>“Oh, I’m good,” he replies. “Just getting a little fresh air. I was about to pack up and head back.”</p><p>“Back to <em>where</em>,” Dutch coos, and Daniel realizes he is, indeed, in deep shit. He slowly gets to his feet.</p><p>A moment of silence passes that feels like an eternity.</p><p>“Let’s have a re-match,” Dutch tells him.</p><p>Daniel checks his pocket for his keys – there they are – and makes a break for the car.</p><p>He’s halfway up the boardwalk stairs when he’s tackled; he lands on both knees and the palms of his hands, painfully. “Fuck –“ he gasps, and then a knee hits him, hard, in his side. He grasps upward, blindly, and levers one forearm behind his opponent’s knee. His attacker collapses, landing on his hip, and rolls unceremoniously over the side of the boardwalk, dragging Daniel with him. Daniel lands badly and the wind is knocked out of him. He hears someone else’s ‘oomph’ and another impact.</p><p>“Shit,” the unfamiliar second voice shouts.</p><p>Daniel reaches his feet first, but one of the other men is right there with him, grabbing him around the waist and dragging him back to his knees. He elbows blindly behind him, and his elbow is caught in an iron grip. He follows through, rotating with a wild roundhouse punch with the other, unrestrained arm. The punch is blocked - fuck, this one know what he’s doing. He takes a hard hit to his jaw then, and the pain explodes, stunning him.</p><p>He comes to when he is pulled up from the sand onto his knees under the boardwalk steps, with his arms restrained painfully behind him and someone’s fist clutching the hair on the back of his head. His scalp burns. He strains to take a breath, and someone kicks him hard in the back.</p><p>“This is the guy who took out Cobra Kai? He weighs about a hundred pounds.” Ugly laughter – he recognizes two distinct voices, one very familiar (Dutch) and another he has never heard before.</p><p>“Not so tough now,” the unfamiliar voice continues. </p><p>He is kicked, hard, in the ribs, and he cries out. The pressure on his arms tightens and he is pulled back upright.</p><p>“Silver’s rules!” he hears the man shout.</p><p>Three voices call in unison: <em>“If the enemy can't stand, he can't fight!”</em> One of them laughs, high and cackling, hyena-like. He feels the kick, hard, on his knee from the side; the same knee Bobby swept in competition and Johnny further damaged in the final match. He screams as something in the joint tears.</p><p><em>“If the enemy can't see, he can't fight!”</em> Two of his attackers shout this rule as he is flung forward, face down into the sand. He coughs and closes his eyes against the grit.</p><p><em>“If the enemy can't breathe, he can't fight!”</em> A knee, the full weight of an adult body behind it, is planted into the center of his back, painfully. Someone’s arm digs under his neck and shoulders and pulls up and back, applying hard pressure to his throat. He gasps for breath, unable to draw any air into his lungs, much less scream.</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Dutch, enough,” someone says. Daniel tries to grunt.</p><p>“I’ll show you who’s boss,” he hears Dutch yell wildly through the rising ringing in his ears.</p><p>“Stop –“ someone shouts.</p><p>His arms are pulled roughly in front of him and pinned to the ground, then the waistband of his shorts are pulled roughly and unevenly down. He’s still in a chokehold, blackness dancing behind his now-open eyes, and he hears one set of feet running away. His knees are roughly forced apart. Sudden, unimaginable pain assails him from behind, between his legs, before he mercifully loses consciousness.</p><p>He’s not sure how many hours have passed when he regains his senses under the boardwalk, but it is very dark. His entire body aches, and it’s painful to breathe, both in his throat, and deeper, in his chest. He struggles to his feet, shakily and slowly pulls up his underwear and shorts (<em>don’t think about that</em>, he tells himself), and limps back towards the water and the base of the boardwalk stairs. The beach is deserted, and outside of the circles of light cast by the parking lot lightpoles, all is pitch black. The roar of the ocean hides all other sound, including the desperate noises he’s making as he hobbles up the steps. Mercifully, his keys are still in his pocket, even after… after. He’s able to get into the old Ford and drive himself to Miyagi’s.</p><p>When he arrives, the first thing Daniel does is strip off his clothes and throw them in the trash. Then he showers, faucets turned until the water is nearly too hot to bear. He stands under the running water for as long as the water heater holds out. Trembling, he explores his body for injuries. The knee, obviously, is fucked, and, and all the scrapes and scratches on his arms, knees, and shins sting under the shower’s spray. Fearfully, he reaches behind and feels between his legs. He’s still bleeding freely back there, and the pain makes him afraid to explore any further. He and Ali never got beyond second base; he is wholly inexperienced in the act of sex or its many variations, and has no experience to draw on to even name what happened to him. He only knows that he hurts, he’s frightened, alone, and he has no idea what to do.</p><p>Once the water runs cold, he is forced out of the shower. With trepidation, he faces himself in the mirror. The left side of his face is darkening into a serious bruise. His neck is reddened and swollen, and his throat aches. His eyes are also red. He leans closer and realizes the small capillaries in both sclera have burst. He looks like a goddamned vampire. This, of all things, is what causes the dam to break; he starts crying, and is unable to stop. </p><p>He crawls into bed and weeps until he finally sinks into an exhausted sleep.</p><p>The next day passes in a hazy blur. He drags himself out of his bedroom late in the morning, feeling like he has slept very little indeed. Everything that hurt last night hurts threefold today. He does manage to heat himself some ramen out of the package, but has difficulty forcing it down because of the pain in his throat and jaw. He drinks the broth, puts the noodles down the disposal, and goes back to bed.</p><p>He wakes again in the afternoon, swallows four aspirin with cold tap water, takes one look at the stack of textbooks and his TrapperKeeper notebook on the dining room table, and knows with a deep resignation he’s not going to make it to school the next morning. He looks like he went a few rounds with Arnold Schwarzenegger, he can barely walk, and he has no intention of telling anyone at school what happened to him. Worse, Dutch might be there. His plans to pass his finals and graduate high school are dashed, despite everything his ma and Mr Miyagi did to help him, all because he went out on his own, didn’t pay attention to his surroundings, and couldn’t defend himself. Shame burns miserably in his gut as he crawls under the covers of his bed for the second time.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Zero sum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>It’s later, in the lunchroom, that he picks up his first cue that something is off. Johnny may not be the smartest guy in the room, but he is far from the dumbest, and his years of successfully navigating the complex social dynamics of the valley high school community have developed certain of his talents. He can see immediately that Tommy is off his game; edgy, nervous, watching the door, and watching him out of the corners of his eyes.</em>
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    <p>When Johnny thinks about what he wants to do with his last weekend in high school, he wishes he could hang out at Miyagi’s with LaRusso, maybe get in some practice, eat some pizza. In a different world, one where Johnny hadn’t gone after Ali like a psycho stalker, hadn’t turned his own anger into some pointless feud, maybe they’d all be hanging out at the same parties. Maybe they would have been real friends because it turns out he likes hanging out with LaRusso. They get along well, they enjoy the same tv shows and laugh at the same jokes, and they’re well-matched as sparring partners in terms of physicality and skill.</p><p>In <em>this</em> world, though, LaRusso would never be comfortable with his old Cobra Kai crew, and his old gang would have no idea what to make of their new friendship. It would just be awkward, all around. Johnny is also working Friday afternoon, plus an all-day shift Saturday and a mowing job Sunday morning, so, between that, final cramming, and his own social calendar, he doesn’t have much spare time to worry about anyone else. His plate is full as it is.</p><p>Monday morning, he’s up, ready and out the door on time. Johnny has two finals today; the first, third-year Latin, is at 9:20 a.m. Then there’s a gap in his schedule until calculus at 2pm. He has an instinctive knack for vocabulary and language in general that makes Latin come easy to him, but he had to work hard for every passing math grade he ever earned, so calculus has him concerned. He plans to spend the midday gap in the cafeteria, reviewing his notes.</p><p>He sits down in his Latin teacher’s classroom some minutes early, notices when Bobby walks in, and nods. Bobby throws him a little wink, then the bell rings and Ms Schwartz is handing out the mimeographed tests. Johnny glances through the pages and feels pretty good. <em>If only they were all this easy.</em></p><p>It’s later, in the lunchroom, that he picks up his first cue that something is off. He’s been at his usual table for an hour already, waiting for the cafeteria to start serving food, when he sees Tommy, Bobby, and Jimmy walk in together. Bobby spots him, says something to the other two boys, and starts to walk in his direction. Jimmy follows close behind. Tommy hesitates, looks conflicted, then reluctantly trails the other two over to Johnny’s table. Johnny frowns.</p><p>Bobby and Jimmy grab chairs and continue on about whatever they were already talking about; their voices fade into the background hum while Johnny focuses his attention on Tommy. He may not be the smartest guy in the room, but he is far from the dumbest, and his years of successfully navigating the complex social dynamics of the valley high school community have developed certain of his talents. He can see immediately that Tommy is off his game; edgy, nervous, watching the door, and watching him out of the corners of his eyes.</p><p> Johnny slams his book shut with a whack, and Tommy practically jumps out of his chair.</p><p>“Tommy,” he challenges, “what is your damage?”</p><p>All three boys stare at him, then Bobby and Jimmy pivot to stare at Tommy. After a moment, Tommy responds. “Nothing. Nothing, man. Just tired. Long weekend.”</p><p>Jimmy looks at Tommy with mild interest. “Where did you and Dutch go Saturday? I thought we were all going to hang out after practice. But you guys split.”</p><p>“Gee, thanks for the invite,” Johnny laughs, but there’s an edge underneath. “Fuck you too.”</p><p>Jimmy shrugs. Tommy, silent, avoids his eyes. Bobby shoots him a look, because he knows full well Johnny worked all day on a job with Bobby’s dad Saturday. But Johnny is feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck; he’s on to something here, some shift in his environment that he doesn’t quite understand. For one, in the old days, he would have been invited to anything the crew was doing, no matter what. Two, he’s digging after whatever is going on with Dutch. Bobby warned him a couple of weeks ago that sentiment at his old dojo has turned against him, that Dutch specifically sees him as a traitor. There’s something off, and Dutch is at the center of all of it.</p><p>Tommy answers Jimmy’s question shortly. “Snake wanted to hang out. That’s all.”</p><p>Bobby meets Johnny’s eyes with one eyebrow raised. Johnny is forming his next salvo when the bell rings, announcing start of cafeteria service. The prospect of food brings the tense encounter to a merciful halt.</p><p>When all four boys are digging into their lunches, Johnny notices Tommy’s knuckles are abraded and raw. He files that away for later consideration.</p><p>At 1:30, Johnny starts walking to Mr McMillan’s classroom, where the dreaded math final awaits him. Through the next 20 minutes, student after student slowly files in, settles into their desks, retrieve their pencils and calculators, and waits. Only when the exam has been distributed does Johnny realize Daniel’s seat is empty. <em>LaRusso is missing his final?</em> Johnny thinks. That’s not like him, at all.</p><p>It’s 3:30 by the time Johnny loads up his backpack with the next day’s texts and materials and heads for the car. He’s due to pick up last week’s pay from Bobby’s dad’s office before 5, but he can’t stop thinking about LaRusso missing the math final. It makes no sense; but maybe LaRusso took it early? Or had some need to take it late? </p><p>Or maybe something is wrong, he decides, and resolves to take a ride over to Mr Miyagi’s house after school.</p><p>…</p><p>Daniel is in a deep sleep when the knock at the door comes. It takes him a minute to wade back to consciousness, another minute to force himself to his feet. Meanwhile, whoever is at the door has continued knocking, more aggressively now.</p><p>Daniel pauses, unsure whether to go to the door at all. He’s not ready to face anyone, certainly not ready to explain his appearance. Something else occurs to him, then, and his chest tightens with anxiety. What if it’s one of his attackers? He’s frozen like a deer in headlights. He prays for the knocking to stop, for whoever it is at Miyagi’s door to just go away.</p><p>Instead, he hears the knob turn, and the door slams open. He retreats into the bedroom again, his breath wheezing through his throat in something perilously approaching panic. His vision swims –</p><p>“LaRusso? Are you in here?” he hears Johnny’s voice call out, and nearly faints with relief.</p><p>Daniel tries to call out, “I’m here,” but he’s lost his voice. Before he’s ready, he finds himself face-to-face with a concerned-looking Johnny.</p><p>Johnny gasps, “Fuck… dude, what the fuck?” and steps abruptly towards him. </p><p>Daniel involuntarily flinches back. Humiliatingly, this makes him lose his balance; his bad knee folds, and he catches himself on the edge of his bed with one arm. This applies pressure on his bruised side, and he gasps, forced to let himself fall ass-first to the mattress. This hurts for… reasons… Daniel is presently refusing to acknowledge. His vision swims with tears.</p><p>Johnny freezes, his own hands in the air. Daniel watches Johnny’s eyes inspect him, studying his face, his posture, his pained position, and he feels exposed, vulnerable. The feeling curdles in his gut, becoming a nauseating soup of fear and rage.</p><p>Johnny’s speaking slowly, gently, as though to a frightened animal. “Hey, hey,” he starts, studying Daniel’s eyes, his neck. “I know what this is – someone choked you out–“</p><p>“Who did you tell?” Daniel demands in a coarse whisper.</p><p>“I’m – what?” Johnny responds. “I didn’t –“</p><p>“You told someone I was on my own,” Daniel accuses him, his volume increasing with his panic. “That Mr Miyagi isn’t here. You told your <em>friends</em>,” he spits the word angrily, “about me.”</p><p>“Oh, holy shit,” Johnny says slowly. “Someone from Cobra Kai did this to you?”</p><p>Daniel realizes how much he’s exposed, and clamps his mouth shut.</p><p>“Who did this?” Silence is his only reply. “LaRusso… I wouldn’t do this. I didn’t tell anyone anything.” He’s pleading now. “I would never do this to you.”</p><p>Daniel gasps, lets out a shuddering breath. His rage dissolves, and he’s left with bone-deep exhaustion. It’s all he can do to stay upright. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I- I don’t know why I said that.”</p><p>“It’s ok.” Johnny approaches him slowly, his hands open and raised. He takes a seat, slowly, next to Daniel but a couple of feet away. “When did this happen?”</p><p>“Saturday.”</p><p>“Jesus, two days ago? Have you been to a doctor?” </p><p>Daniel shakes his head ‘no’ miserably.</p><p>“LaRusso, I think you need to.”</p><p>“Johnny, I c-can’t,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Please.”</p><p>Johnny struggles to set his frustration aside so he can think He understands how LaRusso is feeling, because he also hid from the world after Kreese attacked him. He had been ashamed because he failed to defend himself, and he couldn’t bear for anyone to see him weakened and vulnerable. He also remembers feeling convinced that no one cared; that even if they knew, no one would do anything to help him. It was in his mind at times, even now, that he <em>deserved</em> what Kreese did to him, that it was some kind of karmic justice.</p><p>Now, seeing his friend in pain, he realizes he was wrong, back in December. Daniel doesn’t deserve this – no one deserves this. Neither had Johnny, and someone should have been there for him, too. He takes in a shuddering breath. Goddamnit, now <em>Johnny</em> is getting teary-eyed. He tells himself he has to keep his own emotions under control if he’s going to be any help for LaRusso. He can do that much.</p><p>“This wasn’t your fault,” Johnny tells him gently.</p><p>Daniel looks up at him mutely.</p><p>“Will you – will you let me see? See if anything’s broken.”</p><p>Daniel is motionless for a moment, then he slowly nods his consent.</p><p>Johnny is horrified at what he finds. Daniel is bruised badly around his neck, in his midback, his abdomen, and his side. Johnny suspects broken ribs, judging by his response to gentle pressure there. His wrists are bruised in a way that suggests he was restrained with great force. His knee obviously has internal damage of some kind. Moving his jaw is painful. The deep bruising midway up both thighs are deeply worrying, less for their severity than because of the way Daniel flinches and shakes when Johnny places his hand there. Something very wrong has happened, and Johnny can’t make sense of it. He does know that this situation is too serious to handle by themselves with aspirin and ice. He has to get Daniel some real help, and they have to figure out what to do about Daniel’s finals.</p><p>He starts small and makes tea. He’s never made it himself, but he’s seen the old man load up the ceramic ball-thing with tea leaves and submerge it in hot water in the teapot. He knows where the kettle is, and he finds the tea cups after some cabinet-scrambling. By the time the kettle is whistling, Daniel is slowly making his way to the little kitchen table. Johnny sucks in his breath at the stiff, pained way Daniel is moving. “Thanks,” Daniel breathes as he settles slowly into a chair.</p><p>“Any time,” Johnny replies. “I was worried when I didn’t see you in calculus. I didn’t tell you this, but I was really counting on you to be there, you know, so I could copy your answers.”</p><p>Daniel snorts. “Maybe next year – oh, right. No next year.”</p><p>Johnny pours the tea into two mugs, brings one to LaRusso, and cradles the other in his hands as he sits down across from him.</p><p>“Seriously, though, what do you want to do?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Daniel admitted. “I have n-no idea what to do.”</p><p> “I have an idea,” Johnny tells him. “Oh, come on, I have ideas,” he says when he sees Daniel’s skeptical look. “They don’t all suck.”</p><p>“What idea?” Daniel asks him seriously.</p><p>Something tells Johnny it’s important for Daniel to be in control of whatever happens now. “I need your permission to tell someone at school that you’re hurt. Someone you trust, a teacher or a counselor. I’ll tell them whatever you tell me to say. And I’ll ask for a makeup period to take the test. Tests. All the tests.”</p><p>“All the tests,” Daniel repeats, resigned. “I- I’ll think about it, ok? I d-don’t know what to s-say-“</p><p>The stuttering, that’s new, too. “I’ll come up with something,” he promises. “Whatever you want.”</p><p>“I want to t-take a shower,” Daniel tells him. He’s hardly sipped his tea, but he’s holding onto the mug with a death grip.. “Will you… will you still be here?”</p><p>“Do you want me to be here?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Then I’m here,” he promises. His paycheck can wait.</p><p>While Daniel is showering, Johnny calls his mom and lets her know he’s staying over at a friend’s house. She gives her permission, no questions asked – thankfully, Sid is on location somewhere out of state. When Daniel emerges from his shower, dressed in loose-fitting sweatpants and a long-sleeved tshirt, they spend the evening in uneasy imitation of any evening in a typical household on a normal day. He heats them up some soup, and they sit companionably at opposite ends of Miyagi’s little sofa, eating and swapping off motorsports and martial arts magazines. Around 8pm, while it is still light outside, Johnny sees Daniel has dozed off, so he nudges him awake just enough to encourage him to lay down and get some real rest.</p><p>Alone, he thinks about what he needs to do Tuesday morning. Without any helpful suggestions from LaRusso, who is barely functioning, he decides Mr Owens, a guidance counselor who also taught Johnny’s health class freshman year, might be a good candidate. He’s never spoken to Mr Owens one on one, but in class, he always seemed level headed, open-minded and calm, like nothing would shock him.</p><p>He’s settled in on the sofa with a throw pillow under his head and Miyagi’s old woolen blanket over him, trying with little success to go to sleep in the unfamiliar room, when moaning from Daniel’s room rouses him. He’s hesitant about entering his bedroom in the middle of the night, but it sounds like he’s in pain. Should he- but then, Daniel quiets down, making his decision for him.</p><p>Hours later, it happens again. Johnny sighs, gets to his feet, and pads quietly down the short hallway and through the open bedroom door. He has left a light on in his room, he notices, and has thrashed off his covers. The room is chilly, even with the window closed, so Johnny tiptoes over, uncomfortable with the intimacy of being in his bedroom, and pulls up the covers. But as soon as his hands touch his friend’s shoulders, LaRusso reacts violently – eyes thrown wide in panic, he grabs Johnny’s forearms and shoves him away, hard. “Don’t touch me!” he shouts hoarsely.</p><p>Inside Johnny, new understanding <em>clicks</em>. He feels sick.</p><p>“LaRusso, you’re safe. It’s me.”</p><p>“Shit, shit,” Daniel gasps harshly. “Shit, I’m sorry –“</p><p>“I’m the one who should be sorry,” he forces himself to relax his fists and calm his own breathing. The sudden rush of adrenaline has his heart pounding. “I just wanted to make sure you’re-.”</p><p>“I know you’re trying to help.”</p><p>“Can you go back to sleep?”</p><p>Daniel looks uncertain, but he takes a deep breath, a calming technique Johnny recognizes from his own meditation sessions with the old man, and nods his head in the affirmative. Johnny notices his deep brown eyes for the first time, and the faint stubble that darkens and defines his chin and jawline. Lucky bastard – Johnny’s taller, but he can only grow a patchy peach fuzz.</p><p>He’s not doing enough, Johnny knows, but what else can he do? “Ok. I’m here. I’m right out there. If there’s anything you need.”</p><p>Maybe 20 minutes after Johnny’s returned to the sofa, he hears and feels Daniel gingerly settle in with him, with his head at the opposite end of the sofa, legs lightly nesting with his own. Johnny, an only child grown into a defensive, standoffish young man, has never experienced platonic, affectionate contact with anyone but his own mother. This is a new experience for him. He rests one hand and forearm on Daniel’s shin, skin to skin, and feels a flush of warmth that carries him into slumber.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The way out is through</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Bobby exclaims, then slams his hand over his mouth. That won’t fly in seminary school, Johnny thinks disconnectedly.</em>
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  <em>“He took it too far,” Tommy pleaded. “You know he always takes things too far.”</em>
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  <em>“You didn’t even try to stop it,” Johnny observes. “Then you kept your mouth shut like a good Cobra.” He bends over, picks up his half-full bottle, and hurls it at Tommy as hard as he can.</em>
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    <p>Tuesday morning, the rising sun wakes Johnny around seven. He very gently disentangles himself from LaRusso and uses Miyagi’s blanket to cover him. His friend’s neck and the side of his face is settling into an ugly, mottled palette of green and purple, but mercifully he is fast asleep. He retrieves his gym bag from the trunk of his car, washes up as best he can in Miyagi’s bathroom, changes into his spare set of clothes, and drives himself to school.</p><p>He heads straight to Mr Owens’ office and waits, a pit of anxiety weighing heavily in his gut. He doesn’t need to wait long.</p><p>“Mr Lawrence,” Mr Owens greets him formally. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”</p><p>Well, hell. Johnny hasn’t thought through this conversation at all. “Hi, Mr Owens. Um. I’m here for a friend.”</p><p>“A friend,” Mr Owens repeats, deadpan.</p><p>Johnny groans. “Ugh. Not me. Someone else. Daniel LaRusso.”</p><p>“LaRusso,” Mr Owens repeats. Johnny is starting to question the wisdom of this entire conversation. “You and Mr LaRusso have had some <em>troubled</em> interactions this year,” he notes drily.</p><p>His cheeks burn with shame. Christ, he’s been a jackass. “I deserve that,” he says evenly, and Owens quirks an eyebrow at him. “But things have changed. We’re… friends, now. And something happened to him over the weekend. He needs help.” He takes a deep breath. “He’s hurt.”</p><p>For the first time, Owens takes him seriously. “Hang on a sec,” he says, and leaves his office. He reappears a couple of minutes later with a folder - LaRusso’s student file – opens and studies it. “He missed two finals yesterday,” he observes. “Why isn’t he here himself?”</p><p>Johnny looks down at his feet, deeply uncomfortable. “He won’t leave his house,” he says softly.</p><p>“All right, Lawrence. What is going on?” He slides the file aside.</p><p>Johnny describes how he found his friend the previous afternoon. His injuries, his behavior, the nightmare, the violent reaction to being woken up. How he appears to have been strangled and held down.</p><p>Owens is silent for a moment. He appears to be carefully considering his response. “What do you think happened to him?” he asks without emotion.</p><p>Something about the man’s tone, the way he flatly asked, is infuriating. Johnny feels a slow, red tide of anger engulf him. His fists clench involuntarily; he struggles to relax and unclench them. <em>Stay calm</em>. He takes a deep breath, then a second. He feels Owens studying him. “Someone beat the shit out of him,” Johnny grates out. “and they didn’t stop. I’m not going to fucking <em>say it</em>-“ and now he’s losing control, his voice escalating in volume. <em>Fuck</em>. He stands, announces, “This was a mistake,” and stalks towards the door.</p><p>“Wait,” he hears. He stops. “John. I’ll help.”</p><p>Johnny deflates; tears of relief spring to his eyes. “Thank you,” he manages to say.</p><p>Owens stands up and puts his arm around Johnny’s shoulder. “I have a few calls to make,” he says, “then let’s go see your friend.”</p><p>…</p><p>The call is to a friend of Mr Owens, a doctor Alvarez. She’s arranged for someone else to cover the rest of her E.R. shift so she can meet Johnny and Owens in the hospital parking lot. </p><p>“Daniel is eighteen,” Mr Owens comments while they wait. “No one can force him to accept help if he doesn’t want it. How is he going to react when we all show up on his doorstep?”</p><p>“Last night, he came around to being ok with me talking to someone for him. But he’s all over the place right now, Mr Owens. I wish I knew the right thing to do. His mom is in New Jersey, and he refuses to call her, he says she has enough problems to worry about. Mr Miyagi is in fucking Japan. It’s just him.”</p><p>“Language,” Owens tells him mildly. “What about you? What’s your schedule this week?”</p><p>“My schedule – well, I’m missing Physics right now. I have History this afternoon. Literature tomorrow. Sports medicine, Thursday. That’s it.”</p><p>“Sports medicine,” Owens repeats, and at that moment, Dr Alvarez opens the rear passenger door and gets in.</p><p>“Nick,” she greets him. </p><p>“Miranda,” he replies. “Thank you for this. I was about to ask Mr Lawrence here if he learned about strangulation in his high school sports medicine class.”</p><p>“Damn,” Johnny retorts. “That’s pretty direct.”</p><p>“Well?” Owens asks, looking at him. Johnny also feels Dr Alvarez’s eyes burning holes into the back of his head. Fuck it, he decides, let’s lay it all out.</p><p>“You know some of us are into karate,” Johnny tells him. “I won the All Valley tournament two years in a row. Last year, LaRusso beat me in the final round and won it. My sensei – coach – was pissed. He strangled me in the parking lot after the tournament until I passed out. LaRusso looks like what I looked like afterwards.” He pauses for a response he knows isn’t coming. “Now you know.”</p><p>“I’ll get you excused from today’s finals,” Owens finally says. Johnny chuffs, relieved. In the backseat, Dr Alvarez shifts uncomfortably.</p><p>The drive over to Miyagi’s little house lasts 15 tense minutes in morning traffic. Daniel doesn’t seem entirely surprised by the knock on the door, but Johnny thinks he’s surprised to see Mr Owens. “LaRusso, you know Mr Owens, he’s a counselor at our school. I talked to him this morning. That’s why we’re here.”</p><p>Daniel nods, opens the door wider so they can enter.</p><p>Mr Owens speaks for the first time. “We haven’t talked before, Daniel. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I heard a bit about you this year. Even heard you kicked this guy’s ass at the All Valley?”</p><p>This breaks the ice, and Daniel lets out a bit of a laugh. “Lucky kick,” he confirms, and Johnny winces anew at the hoarseness of his voice.</p><p>“I would have enjoyed seeing that,” Owens tells him. “Can we sit and talk things over?”</p><p>“Yeah, ok,” Daniel leads him to the little kitchen table and chairs, and Johnny watches Owens watching Daniel. “Mr Owens,” he begins. “I’m sorry you’re going to all this trouble. I think, if I just had some time, I’ll… I’ll be ok. I c-can’t go to school like this. I’d rather not have to s-see-“</p><p><em>Shit</em>, Johnny realizes. <em>I am such an idiot.</em> Whoever it was, LaRusso is afraid he might encounter them at school. He is furious all over again. As a distraction for himself, he gets the teakettle out and prepares to brew some tea.</p><p>“Daniel,” Mr Owens stops him. “You look like you’re really hurting. We brought someone with us. She is a doctor over at the hospital, and a very good personal friend of mine. She’s waiting in the car. If you give us your permission, she will examine you, and help you decide what to do next.”</p><p>Johnny watches LaRusso’s already-tenuous composure crumble. “You,” he looks at Johnny, “you did this for me?” He starts crying in earnest and raises his hands to hide his face.</p><p>“Goddamnit, LaRusso,” Johnny blurts, and he can’t stop himself - he strides over to Daniel, crouches down to his level, and embraces him carefully around the shoulders with one arm. With his free hand, he grasps Daniel’s forearm and leans in close to speak quietly into his ear. “Come on, it’s ok. You’re going to be all right.” He feels Daniel nod. Gratefully, gently, Johnny nudges his head against Daniel’s, and they stay like that until he can pull himself together.</p><p>Johnny finally looks up at Mr Owens and confirms, “He’ll see Dr Alvarez.”</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny and Mr Owens are carefully avoiding each other’s gazes; both hear quiet discussion between Dr Alvarez and Daniel behind Daniel’s closed bedroom door. Johnny has finally poured hot tea into a couple of mugs and handed one of them over to Mr Owens, who is sitting on the same sofa Johnny slept on last night. Johnny sees Owens notice the pillows, blanket, Johnny’s duffel.</p><p>“Cozy,” Owens comments drily. “Lawrence, call me Nick.”</p><p>“Call me Johnny. That couch is not cozy. It sucks.” That earns a chuckle.</p><p>“It’s a futon, you know. You could lay it flat and it would be a lot more comfortable.”</p><p>“…Huh.”</p><p>“Johnny, can I ask you a personal question? No need to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Sure. Shoot.”</p><p>“You and Daniel seem… close. I didn’t know that about you.”</p><p>“Well, <em>Nick</em>,” Johnny tries that out, “I didn’t know that about me either, until today.”</p><p>“How do you feel? Right now?”</p><p>Johnny has to think about that. He’s not practiced at examining his own feelings. In fact, he avoids thinking about his feelings as much as he possibly can. He certainly <em>feels</em> them, but he doesn’t usually <em>name</em> them, much less <em>discuss</em> them with anyone.</p><p>“I’m tired. Scared. Worried. I’m pretty angry. A little confused.”</p><p>“Confused,” Nick repeats.</p><p>“Why do you do that? Do you know you do that?” Johnny demands, exasperated.</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“‘<em>Do what?</em>’ Repeat things. Like that.”</p><p>“Oh, that. That’s powerful. It elicits truth. Usually.”</p><p>Johnny is completely flummoxed.</p><p>“You’re edgy, Lawrence, I like that about you. Are you and Daniel just friends? Or something more?”</p><p>“That’s a hell of a thing to ask.” He takes a breath. “I’m not a fag,” he explains. “I mean, I like girls. I’ve never <em>liked</em> a guy before. I- I like Daniel.” <em>Shit</em>.</p><p>Owens, quiet, listens.</p><p>“I also did some bad things, last year, picked on him with some of the guys, roughed him up.” He makes himself say the truth: “I bullied him.” Johnny unconsciously rubs his neck with one hand. “I was going through some stuff myself. That’s not an excuse. None of it makes any sense now. I don’t feel like I’m that person any more.”</p><p>“Guilt, the need to atone - that’s an important feeling. Are you here just to atone? Guilt isn’t a foundation for a relationship. Not even a friendship.”</p><p>“I like him,” Johnny responds, and surprises himself with his candor. “I like when we talk, I like training with him. I care what happens to him.”</p><p>“Go with that,” Owens encourages. “I’d like to talk more with you, in a week or two, when things settle down. Would that be ok?” He pulls out a card, hands it to Johnny.</p><p>Johnny nods. “I’d like that.”</p><p>Both men turn when they hear Daniel’s door open. Dr Alvarez comes out first. “He’s agreed to let me admit him. I want someone to evaluate the knee, monitor a few other areas. He’s packing a bag now. Nick, he refused the kit.” She shakes her head, then turns to look at Johnny. “You did the right thing,” she tells him, and he breathes a sigh of relief. The anxious pit in his stomach lightens.</p><p>Daniel follows the doctor, resolute and stoic, bag in hand. In the car, all four are silent.</p><p>Owens drops Johnny off at his car before continuing on to the hospital with the doctor and Daniel. Johnny intends to go to the hospital, later, but first, he has some other business to take care of. He drives slowly through the school’s parking lot until he spots Tommy’s car. The lot is too congested for him to park close enough for his liking, but he does finally find another spot with a suitable vantage point. It’s 11am, so he settles into his seat for a long wait.</p><p>It’s 3:30 when Johnny spots Tommy leave through a side door, Bobby accompanying him. Johnny considers, and concludes this is advantageous because he and Bobby are still on good terms. He locks up his own car and walks towards them, waving in a pantomime of friendly greeting.</p><p>“Hey, Bobby, Tommy, you guys done? Me too! Just wrapped up! What’s the plan?”</p><p>Bobby grins at him, and even Tommy smiles. “We were just talking about hanging out,” Bobby called back. “Want to hit the beach?”</p><p>“Heck yeah, meet you there,” he replied.</p><p>He actually stops on the way for a sixpack, and arrives after Tommy and Bobby have already parked and settled into their usual spot. He joins them companionably, sets the sixpack between them. “Finals, huh,” he opens. “Only a few more to go.”</p><p>They each take and open a bottle. “I am so ready for this to be over,” Tommy agrees.</p><p>“Me too,” Bobby contributes.</p><p>“Hey, are you still training over at Cobra Kai?” Johnny asks Tommy.</p><p>“Yeah, I go there a few times a week,” Tommy replies. “After graduation, I’m thinking about quitting. Leave it for the younger guys.”</p><p>Bobby nods. All three watch the ocean and nurse their beers.</p><p>“I didn’t tell you guys,” Johnny says finally. “I’ve been doing some training on my own. I miss Cobra Kai, but I wasn’t ready to come back yet.” He looks at Tommy. “How do you think it would go, if I came back to the dojo?”</p><p>Bobby is staring at him in open-mouthed astonishment. Johnny pretends not to notice.</p><p>Tommy looks uncomfortable. “The dojo is different now,” he says.</p><p>“Is Silver teaching you different things than Kreese did?” Johnny asks. “Does he still teach that ‘no mercy’ bullshit?”</p><p>Bobby has caught on, now, to the fact Johnny’s up to something. Tommy is a little slower on the uptake. “Sensei Silver brought in his own rules,” he tells Johnny. “We had to memorize them. They go, <em> ‘If an enemy can't stand, he can't fight. If an enemy can't see, he can't fight. If an enemy can't breathe, he can't fight.’</em>”</p><p>“If an enemy can’t breathe, he can’t fight,” Johnny repeats slowly. “That’s interesting.”</p><p>Tommy pivots to look at him, slowly sets his beer down in the sand.</p><p>“I’ve been training with Mr Miyagi,” Johnny continues, “and sparring with LaRusso.”</p><p>Tommy is slowly rising to his feet. “Johnny, listen-”</p><p>“Kreese taught us some psychotic shit,” Johnny’s voice is rising as he gets to his own feet; he’s losing his shit, again. “But he never taught us to be <em>criminals</em>.”</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>,” Bobby breathes.</p><p>“He didn’t teach us to hold the <em>enemy</em> down and <em>rape</em> him-“</p><p>Tommy swings wildly and hits him squarely on the mouth.</p><p>Johnny wipes the blood from his lip with the back of one hand, studies it, looks up at Tommy with a feral grin. “I hoped you would do that,” he says, and strikes back without mercy, just like Kreese taught him. Tommy doesn’t stand a chance; he’s flat on his ass in under a minute, arms up to shield his head.</p><p>Bobby, always the best of them, grabs Johnny by the arm. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“Ask him,” Johnny, panting, points his chin at Tommy. “He was there.”</p><p>Tommy looks like he’s about to cry. “It was Dutch, okay? He and Snake. I split when Snake held him down and Dutch… he…”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Bobby exclaims, then slams his hand over his mouth. <em>That won’t fly in seminary school</em>, Johnny thinks disconnectedly.</p><p>“He took it too far,” Tommy pleaded. “You know he always takes things too far.”</p><p>“You didn’t even try to stop it,” Johnny observes. “Then you kept your mouth shut like a good Cobra.” He bends over, picks up his half-full bottle, and hurls it at Tommy as hard as he can. Emotionally and physically drained, he turns away and starts walking towards the boardwalk and his car. He hears Bobby’s quiet footsteps behind him.</p><p>Johnny drives Bobby back to the school parking lot in silence, and both sit in the car for a while.</p><p>“I didn’t know,” Bobby finally says.</p><p>“I know you didn’t,” he replies. “I need to get to the hospital.”</p><p>Bobby squeezes his shoulder before getting out of the car.</p><p>It’s after 5 when Johnny arrives. He’s washed his face and hands and changed his shirt. Owens notices his split lip and swollen knuckles, and decides he’s not going to mention it if the blond kid doesn’t. “You’ve missed some updates,” he says. “Daniel is getting an MRI on his knee right now. The ortho will review it in the morning and tell him if he needs surgery. When you go in to visit him, he’s on oxygen, and a chest tube has been placed. That’s because he has two broken ribs and a punctured lung. The tube is there to help his lung heal. That won’t need surgery,” he reassures Johnny. “If all goes well, and it should, he’ll be released Thursday or Friday.”</p><p>“That sounds… really bad,” Johnny comments. He’s feeling disassociated, numb.</p><p>“It sounds worse than it is,” he says. “Really. No permanent damage. He will be back in fighting shape in six or eight weeks.”</p><p>“Ok. Thank you. I should have been here.”</p><p>“That’s all right, Lawrence. Listen, someone will come get you when you can see him, but he’ll be pretty out of it. Let him know you’re here, then <em>go home</em> and get some rest. You need it.”</p><p>Johnny nods. “Thank you, Mr Owens… Nick. You’ve done a lot for LaRusso. Thank you for listening.”</p><p>Nick pats him on the arm. “That’s why I’m here,” he says. “I’m heading home myself. See you soon.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The mark has been made</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Daniel reaches the potting area first and breathes a sigh of relief. Miyagi’s treasured little trees look healthy, unstressed and green, their soil damp.</p><p>“I thought they’d be dead! I forgot all about them.”</p><p>“I didn’t forget,” Johnny said. He’s looking around at the plants with his arms crossed and a satisfied expression on his face, and Daniel can’t decide if he’d rather swat him or hug him. “I check on them every day.”</p><p>“Lawrence, I didn’t know you had it in you.” He breathes in the fresh evening air – he’s missed being out in the world, seeing the sky, feeling the breeze.</p><p>“You have no idea what’s in me,” Johnny laughs.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s Thursday when he visits LaRusso next – after his knee surgery, and removal of his chest tube. He’s even off the supplemental oxygen.</p><p>“I’m getting out of here tomorrow morning,” LaRusso tells him. There’s a strange distance, an awkwardness, between them as Johnny pulls a chair closer and sits down.</p><p>“Need a ride?” he offers. “Cheapest taxi service in the Valley.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Hell yes. That’s the least I can do after you got me out of most of my finals,” he teases gently.</p><p>“Hell of a way to get out of finals,” LaRusso comments drily.</p><p>Johnny shrugs. “What do you want to do when you get out of here?” he asks. “Get a pizza? Hit the bars? Go the hell home, take a hot shower, and sleep in your own bed?”</p><p>LaRusso laughs, and the tension lessens. “You know me so well, Johnny Lawrence,” he teases, and if Johnny didn’t know better, he’d think LaRusso was flirting with him, just a little.</p><p>“Call me sometime.” Johnny writes down his number. “I’ll take you home.”</p><p>…</p><p>Early Friday morning, Johnny gets the call from a tense-sounding LaRusso. </p><p>“Johnny, can you come early? Like, soon? The discharge nurse says she can’t sign me out until she knows who is going to be with me at home. She says someone has to be here to be shown how to change the dressings. Can you come and tell them you’ll do it? Please? I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Chill out, LaRusso,” Johnny interrupts, “I’m coming. Be there in 20 minutes.” And he is.</p><p>LaRusso is still in his room, waiting, bag packed, dressed in street clothes, shoes on, and he’s fidgeting with his hands, his crutches, his post-op instructions – Johnny is stressed out just being in the room with him. </p><p>“Jesus, man, can you relax? This can’t be a big deal. They’ll give me a pamphlet or something, get my name, make sure I’ll be with you at home. It’s no problem.”</p><p>“I just want to get out of here. I hate these places.” He’s visibly frustrated.</p><p>“I know.” Johnny wishes he’d stopped for a cup of coffee before coming up to the room, just so he’d have something to occupy his hands. He walks over to the single window, stares out at the blue June sky, and waits. LaRusso starts tapping a crutch on the floor in a rapid rhythm. Johnny sighs. </p><p>It’s a relief when the door opens and an older woman walks in, wearing scrubs and carrying a plastic bin of supplies. She explains the supplies, mostly medical dressings and tape, to both of them, then pulls out a long, typed list of items to pick up on their way home. When she tells him to remove his shirt, though, Johnny watches him react angrily.</p><p>“Do we actually have to do this? Can’t we just read the instructions? I already know how to do it.”</p><p>“You need help for the first few days,” she tells him, “ and you’re due for a dressing change. No better time than now for your friend to learn how it’s done.”</p><p>Johnny feels deeply conflicted about what to do next. He can see Daniel’s discomfort, see that he’s reacting viscerally, but he can also see that the discharge nurse is only trying to help, and Daniel’s already told him this is a necessary step for discharge.</p><p>“LaRusso, listen. Let’s just… get through this so we can get you out of here.”</p><p>He visibly deflates and sighs. The nurse gives Johnny an appreciative little nod.</p><p>Johnny’s not confident about his ability to be a nurse’s aide, but he’s game to try anything. And when he sees his friend struggle to raise his arms high enough to remove his t-shirt, he can see for himself how necessary this is, no matter what LaRusso thinks.</p><p>She motions him over, unwinds the gauze around Daniel’s torso, and removes the bandage over the stitched incision left by the chest tube. Johnny restrains any outward reaction, but winces internally when she demonstrates how to gently clean the wound. She positions a fresh gauze pad while he carefully presses his hands to Daniel’s skin to smooth down the tape, then shows him how to bind Daniel’s ribs. This takes a couple of iterations before he gets it right, getting a feel for the difference between too little pressure, and too much. This is obviously uncomfortable – LaRusso can’t hold back his gasps – and would be impossible for him to do himself.</p><p>After all that, the knee is simple. Then, to Daniel’s resigned embarrassment, the nurse takes his post-op papers from him, locates the sheets outlining recovery exercises, and talks Johnny through each one using a hands-on demonstration on Daniel’s body. He looks up, pushing down on Daniel’s shin while he tries to raise his foot, to watch his friend’s expression. LaRusso looks older, less like the scrawny teenager he was last fall. He notices LaRusso is studying him in turn. He releases his leg and breaks the eye contact to look at the discharge nurse.</p><p>“You pass my test,” she compliments him. “You just might have a future in the medical field, kid.” The praise brings an unexpected flush to Johnny’s cheeks, and he can see even Daniel is quietly amused.</p><p>On the drive to Miyagi’s, Johnny is thinking about his work schedule with Bobby’s dad, and his new responsibility to help his friend through the first days of his recovery, at least until Miyagi is back. There’s also graduation to consider, and accompanying parental expectations. His mom and Sid have no idea all of his finals were waived, for example – will that come up at graduation?  He mentally juggles the logistics in silence until they reach the house.</p><p>“I’m going to drop you off, then go pick up this list of stuff,” Johnny says. “I’ll be back in a little while.”</p><p>“You don’t really have to do all this stuff,” LaRusso says.</p><p>“What, like, you’re going to drive yourself to the store? Are you on drugs?” After a moment’s pause, “You are, in fact, on a lot of drugs.”</p><p>“Johnny, I know you have stuff to do. You have to work. Graduation is tomorrow morning, you have to pick up your cap and gown-“</p><p>“Shut it, LaRusso,” Johnny barks. “I watched you. You can’t change your shirt by yourself.”</p><p>He’s still protesting. “I can if-“</p><p>“Do you want me to leave?” he demands. “It’s stupid. I want to help you. But if you’re uncomfortable with me here… I understand why you might not trust me after last year-“ He feels himself getting upset without really understanding why.</p><p>“Johnny.” Daniel reaches out, grasps his wrist. “I trust you. I just don’t want to cause you more trouble than I already have.”</p><p>“You do not cause me any trouble,” Johnny replies, and means it.</p><p>Before he walks into the drugstore with the list, Johnny calls Bobby on the payphone outside. “Hey, is your dad home? Can I come by and talk to him?”</p><p>“He’s home for another hour or so,” Bobby replies. “Come on by. Listen, I told him you had some personal stuff going on, and might need to shift your hours. He said it’s cool, he’ll work something out with you. I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p>“I don’t mind,” Johnny said, pleasantly surprised. “Thanks, man.”</p><p>“Sure. Listen, if there’s any way I can help, or if you just want to hang out sometime, call me. You know I never had a problem with Daniel.”</p><p>Johnny takes a moment to think. “It’s complicated,” he finally says, “but I’ll remember you offered.”</p><p>…</p><p>That evening, after Johnny has returned with two shopping bags of supplies, his graduation gown and cap, and a couple of changes of clothes in a duffel, Daniel is sitting up at the kitchen table, leg propped up on a second chair, trying to work out how to use the breathing… thing… the nurse sent home with him that morning.</p><p>“What is this thing called again?” he asks Johnny.</p><p>“Spirometer, you breathe in through that thing and try to keep that little ball on that number.”</p><p>“Oh.” He tries it, and the deep ache in his chest makes him groan. “This <em>hurts</em>.”</p><p>“No pain no gain.” Johnny studies him.”We’re supposed to change your bandages. Do you want to shower first?”</p><p>Daniel nods gratefully, and they work together to remove the wraps and old bandages before he closes the bathroom door and starts the water. While he waits for the water to get warm, Daniel lines up his pill bottles on the bathroom shelf and reads the labels. He is due to take the oxycodone, another little pill for anxiety, and a third whose purpose he’s not sure of. He also has a prescription for a sleeping pill if he needs it; he hopes he doesn’t, and he’s afraid he will. His heart sinks a little, looking at these, and looking at himself in the mirror. He has no idea what he’s going to tell Miyagi when he comes back from Okinawa. He also knows his mother will call tonight. What will he tell her?</p><p>The shower is quite possibly the best shower he has ever had. Afterwards, he dries off, puts on a pair of shorts, shaves. and lets Johnny reapply the dressings and bandages on his knee and chest. He’s exhausted and feeling the effects of the oxy, but aside from this, he’s feeling more like himself than he has since Saturday, nearly a week ago. </p><p>For the first time, he has the mental and emotional capacity to think about what he’s feeling – not just about what happened, but also about Johnny’s sudden presence in his new day-to-day, at least for now, and how he feels about <em>that</em>. He’s grateful, and he likes Johnny, but it feels weird even to him. Daniel’s mind spools back to the night he climbed onto the futon sofa with Johnny, seeking safety and relief from his own thoughts, and his mind stutters. Daniel surprised himself earlier when he told Johnny he trusts him, and he wonders, does Johnny think it’s weird? What does he get out of this? Is he just helping him out of guilt, or pity, or duty?</p><p>This train of thought is still roaring around in his head when the phone rings. It can be only one person – his ma.</p><p>“Sweetheart! How are you?!” Lucille crows into her end of the line. “How did final exams go?”</p><p>Moment of truth – what does he say, does he lie?</p><p>“Hey ma, yeah, finals were no problem,” he tells her. It’s not a lie, precisely, but he sees Johnny roll his eyes from across the room.</p><p>“Oh honey, you sound like you have a cold. Are you feeling all right?”</p><p>“Ma, I’m fine, my throat’s just dry, you know how the air is out here –“</p><p>“When is graduation? Is it tomorrow? Ask Mr Miyagi to take a lot of pictures! Oh, I wish I could be there with you, kiddo.”</p><p>Suddenly, he misses his mom intensely, wishes for nothing other than to have her there with him, giving him one of her big, warm <em>mom</em> hugs. He nearly breaks then, manages to hold it together by a slender thread of emotional control. “I wish you were here, too, ma,” he finally says. “Everything is fine here. Don’t worry about us.” He looks up and sees Johnny watching him closely as they say their goodbyes on the phone.</p><p>“You’re not going to tell her anything?” Johnny asks after he’s hung up.</p><p>Daniel can’t imagine telling his mom about any of this, especially over the phone. What good would it do? She would either be upset and miserable in Newark, or she would be on a plane back to California, which she can’t afford, leaving his uncle without care. Neither outcome does anyone any good. “Maybe someday,” Daniel replies. “Not now.”</p><p>Johnny looks like he’s about to argue, then he simply says, “Whatever feels right to you.” He’s fiddling with the futon, trying to get the frame to open up and lay flat. “Get over here and bring your PT instructions,” he tells him, and the word ‘instructions’ sparks something in Daniel’s mind – something important he’s forgotten. He thinks about it, and –</p><p><em>Sensei’s bonsai! </em> “Shit!” he exclaims, and starts hobbling towards the back door, snatching up one crutch enroute.</p><p>“Hold up,” Johnny’s calling from right behind him.</p><p>Daniel reaches the potting area first and breathes a sigh of relief. Miyagi’s treasured little trees look healthy, unstressed and green, their soil damp.</p><p>“I thought they’d be dead! I forgot all about them.”</p><p>“I didn’t forget,” Johnny said. He’s looking around at the plants with his arms crossed and a satisfied expression on his face, and Daniel can’t decide if he’d rather swat him or hug him. “I check on them every day.”</p><p>“Lawrence, I didn’t know you had it in you.” He breathes in the fresh evening air – he’s missed being out in the world, seeing the sky, feeling the breeze.</p><p>“You have no idea what’s in me,” Johnny laughs. “Come on. Time to do the exercises.”</p><p>Even before he’s finished his last set of leg raises, Daniel finds himself dozing off on the flattened futon. He manages to strap the leg brace back on and stuff a sofa pillow under his head before he drifts off into oblivion.</p><p>… </p><p>Johnny debates whether to wake him up and force him to eat something – but that feels intrusive, and Daniel is obviously exhausted. Better to let him sleep, he decides, and pours himself a bowl of cereal and some milk that’s on the ragged edge of expiration. When he’s finished that, he pours himself a Coors in a glass – fancy – and settles in with one of Miyagi’s martial arts books. He can’t make heads or tails of the language, obviously, but the pictures are good. Two more beers later, he stretches out next to LaRusso, who is flat on his back and snoring, and passes out right along with him.</p><p>…</p><p>Sometime in the night, Daniel’s dreams jolt him awake. Any position other than flat on his back hurts, and he knows it will be a struggle to sit up, so he stays where he is and tries his best to subdue his panic and slow his breathing. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes to forestall his tears, then rubs his temples, hard. He hates waking up like this, feeling trapped and out of control of his own emotions, and in no physical shape to deal with it by pacing or working through his forms.</p><p>Johnny stirs next to him – obviously, he’s also woken him with his histrionics. “Sorry,” he whispers.</p><p>“You ok?”</p><p>“Yes.” <em>No</em>. He struggles to stop his breathing from hitching, and internally berates himself. Why can’t he calm the fuck down?</p><p>Johnny rolls over to face him, in the dark, reaches across him and rests his hand carefully on LaRusso’s shoulder. Maybe he’s still a little drunk, because he slides his hand up to caress his neck lightly with his thumb. Daniel turns his head to face Johnny, but can barely see his eyes in the dark, can just make out the soft fall of blond hair over his forehead. He feels a rush of warmth tinged with arousal, surprising him with its intensity. He reaches up, covers Johnny’s hand with his own, and they study eachother in the dark for a long moment. His breathing slows as he finally calms.</p><p>“I’m all right now,” Daniel tells him quietly. Neither of them breaks their contact.</p><p>Neither of them acknowledges any of this in the morning. The sun wakes Johnny at 7am, and he rouses his friend. “LaRusso,” he near-whispers, “Get up – we’re supposed to be at school by 9 for graduation.” Daniel finally opens his eyes to look across the bed at Johnny. “I picked up your cap and gown.”</p><p>Daniel feels a surge of anxiety, nearly panic. He had not even considered being part of the graduation ceremony, and now that he’s thinking about it, he’s imagining uncomfortable questions from the handful of acquaintances he’s made over the course of the school year, and he’s playing through the scenario where he runs into any of the Cobra Kai gang -  Johnny’s old gang. His face suddenly feels numb.</p><p>“Whatever you want to do,” Johnny continues, and he sounds nervous, “I get it. But, Dutch won’t be there, I heard he can’t graduate.” Daniel flinches at the name. “Tommy won’t come anywhere near either of us.”</p><p>“T-Tommy,” he says. He hadn’t known his name, although he’d recognized his face. “There was a, a third one.” He catches himself roughly rubbing his wrists. He forces himself to stop by clenching his fists between them.</p><p>“Snake,” Johnny supplies. “I don’t know him. He came in with the new Cobra Kai sensei.”</p><p>“So you know all of it,” Daniel says even as he’s realizing it’s the truth. A knot forms deep in the pit of his stomach, and he wavers between anger and a deep, debilitating shame. It’s all too much for him to sort through in his mind, and he brings both his hands over his face, unable to look at Johnny. </p><p>“I figured most of it out. What I didn’t figure out on my own, I beat out of Tommy.” Johnny gently pushes his hands down to see his face, even though Daniel is still refusing to look at him. “LaRusso, I know what they did. I don’t think any differently about you. It’s not your fault. It’s your high school graduation. You only get one. Don’t let them take this away from you.”</p><p>Johnny’s words hit him like a punch in the chest. Several emotions are fighting for dominance in him. He’s afraid to leave Miyagi’s little house, and anxious about facing all of those people at the ceremony, and that makes him angry. He’s ashamed Johnny seems to know more about what happened and who was involved than he himself does. He’s also furious at him for his association with those Cobra Kai assholes. And, he’s feeling all emotional, <em>warm</em>, about Johnny in ways he can’t articulate to himself. He aches to reach out to Johnny, somehow make contact, but he can’t bring himself to move. Tears spring to his eyes, but he blinks them away before Johnny can see. “You have to stop doing this to me, Lawrence,” he finally says. And he still can’t look at him.</p><p>“Doing what?” Johnny demands.</p><p>“I’ll go,” he responds simply.</p><p>It doesn’t go as badly as he feared, although he is exhausted and sore by the time all is said and done. Only a few people approached him to say hello, Ali among them, and only a couple of them asked what happened to him. Mr Owens spotted him and nodded, but did not approach. He had decided on, and Johnny had agreed to support, the cover story that he had been in a car accident the weekend before. As Johnny had promised, Dutch wasn’t there, and if Tommy was, he kept his distance. Johnny’s mother even appeared, solo, to take tens of photos of Johnny (“come on, mom, that’s enough, stop”) and a few of Daniel. Johnny leaned in close to whisper, “Thank god Sid didn’t come. He’s a complete asshole.”</p><p>Surprising Daniel, Johnny’s friend Bobby approached them together and greeted both warmly. Bobby even volunteered, “I totalled my first car when I was sixteen and broke my leg. It sucked. If you need help with anything, you call me.”</p><p>“That’s really nice of you,” Daniel replied, oddly touched by the offer. “I’m good, though. Johnny’s been helping me out a lot. I should be back on my feet and driving and stuff pretty soon, stop being such a drag on everyone else.”</p><p>Bobby raised an eyebrow at Johnny, who quickly countered, “You’re not a drag, LaRusso, I like making your tea, cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet-“ until Daniel cut him off with an affectionate backhanded <em>whack</em> on the arm. Bobby watched this friendly back-and forth, bemused, as though they were playing a particularly interesting tennis game.</p><p>By the time Johnny drives them back to Miyagi’s, just after the catered hors d'oeuvres, it’s all he can do to maneuver himself into his own bed. Johnny prompts him to take his medications on schedule before leaving for his Saturday afternoon shift. He’s working Mondays and Tuesdays, then Fridays and Saturdays, through the summer. “I’m seeing Mr Owens every Wednesday starting next week,” Johnny had told him in the car, “and I can take you to your Thursday appointments.”</p><p>Daniel was too spent to work up an objection. “Thank you,” he says simply.</p><p>That night, when Daniel’s moans wake them both, Johnny climbs into bed with him without any preamble and without asking, dragging Miyagi’s blanket with him from the futon. When they wake the next morning, Johnny is on his side, curled around Daniel’s prone form, his face in Daniel’s hair and his arm draped across his chest. They’ve both slept through the rest of the night uneventfully, and in the light of day, both choose not to inspect this too closely. This sleeping arrangement continues from that night onward.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. We’re in this together (now)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Before we get that far,” Johnny says, and now he’s confident, because he can feel how right this is, “I want you at full strength. I like you feisty, LaRusso.”</p><p>Daniel bursts into a laugh. “Jesus, Johnny. Really?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We finally start to see some fluff... but it’s not 100% smooth sailing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Johnny’s nervous about his first appointment with Mr Owens. He’s never been to any kind of counseling before, and he isn’t at all sure what to expect. Is he going to be <em>diagnosed</em> with something? Will it be like it is in the movies, reclining on a leather chaise while Mr Owens scribbles notes on a clipboard? But that’s ridiculous, he realizes. The appointment is in Mr Owens’ office at the mostly-empty school, and there’s only a cluttered desk and a couple of old wooden school chairs in there.</p><p>This time, Owens is waiting for <em>him</em>.</p><p>“Johnny,” he’s greeted. “Nick,” he replied. “How’s Daniel?” “He’s pretty good, he’s off the painkillers-“ “No, Johnny. How is he, really.”</p><p>Johnny slowly releases a lungful of air, realizing this is going to be a real conversation, like it or not.</p><p>“He’s more stable,” he replies after a moment of thought. “More like himself. But, he still doesn’t like to go out in public. He doesn’t really want to leave the property. He can’t sleep through the night by himself.”</p><p>“By himself,” Owens repeats.</p><p>“Oh for fuck’s sake. I’m sleeping with him, ok?” Owens’ eyebrows skyrocket towards his hairline. “Not like that! We’re not actually - oh my god.” Johnny can’t help but laugh at himself and the situation, even though his face burns in embarrassment.</p><p>Owens is also chuckling. Then he gets serious. “This must be stressful for you,” he observes. “So how is Johnny Lawrence?”</p><p>“I’m good, I got a job-“</p><p>“No, really.”</p><p>Johnny groans. “I am working,” he repeats. “Four days a week, for my friend Bobby’s dad. He’s letting me flex my hours so I can make our appointments, and so I can get Daniel to his appointments. I’m saving enough money that I can probably go in with a roommate on an apartment by fall. Get out of Sid’s house.”</p><p>“Sid is your stepfather?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“How do you get on with Sid?”</p><p>“Not well,” Johnny tells him. “He thinks I’m a screwup. We pretty much avoid each other. Honestly, he’s not a very nice guy. To anyone.”</p><p>“Is your father in the picture?”</p><p>“Never met him.”</p><p>Owens hums. “It’s funny,” he finally said. “I took you for one of those privileged Hills kids. Rich. Has everything he wants.”</p><p>“I guess you never really know what’s happening behind closed doors,” Johnny wryly comments. “I am a privileged Hills kid, though. I did have everything I wanted. I was a spoiled little shit.”</p><p>“I don’t know about that,” Owens replies. “The person I met in this office last week wasn’t a spoiled little shit.”</p><p>Johnny looks away, uncomfortable.</p><p>“What happened after the All Valley, in the parking lot?”</p><p>“I already told you what happened.”</p><p>“Ok. What happened after that?”</p><p>“Mr Miyagi got him off of me. I heard he roughed him up a little, but I don’t remember it. I went home.”</p><p>“You drove yourself home?”</p><p>“When I was able to, yeah.”</p><p>“Your parents weren’t at the match?”</p><p>“No, mom and Sid don’t go to those things.”</p><p>“You didn’t have any friends there to take you home? Look after you?”</p><p>Johnny feels himself getting a little angry, a little spooled up. “No. They all split when Kreese went nuts. What the hell difference does it make now?”</p><p>Owens sighs a little. “Maybe none,” he accedes. “What did you do then?”</p><p>Johnny thinks about this, really thinks back to that night for the first time, and it’s hard because he’s spent all the weeks since then consciously not thinking about it. He feels his chest tighten in anxiety. Suddenly, he’s on the verge of panic, mind buzzing; he can’t focus on the present. Unconsciously, again, one hand goes to his throat, and he wraps the other arm around himself, as if to embrace himself, or just hold himself together. <em>I should be over this now</em>, he berates himself. <em>I thought I was done with this.</em></p><p>“I looked at myself in the mirror,” he said flatly, “and thought about what a fuckup I am. Sensei Kreese was my mentor. He believed in me. For six years, he was the closest thing I had to a father. He taught me how to be strong, how to stand up for myself, how to get respect, how to be a man. But, when I wasn’t winning for him, getting him what he wanted – there was nothing there. It was all bullshit.”</p><p>“How do you feel right now?” </p><p>“Like I don’t want to talk about this any more, <em>Nick</em>.”</p><p>“Johnny, try. Stay with me.”</p><p>“I feel like I can’t breathe. My chest hurts. I can’t think straight.”</p><p>“All right.” Owens reaches across the desk and grips Johnny’s forearm with his hand. “Johnny, look at me. You’re ok.” Johnny comes back to the present, looks at him. Owens’ eyes are kind, searching. “What did you do after that?”</p><p>Johnny releases a shuddering breath. “I stayed in my room for days. I looked bad. I felt bad. I didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want anyone to see me like that. Not even my mom.”</p><p>“What got you unstuck?” Owens asked him. “When did you come back into the world?”</p><p>“One of the guys called me,” Johnny remembers. “Bobby. We met up at the beach and talked about what happened. Bobby is a really good friend.”</p><p>Both sit in silence for a minute, two.</p><p>“I’m beginning to see who you are, John Lawrence,” Owens tells him. “You felt compelled to help LaRusso because you knew exactly how he felt. You went through the same thing he did. You understood.”</p><p>“I didn’t go through what he did,” Johnny counters.</p><p>“Not exactly the same,” Owens agrees. “The violation was different. But you were violated too. You were abused and betrayed by a man you trusted, who you loved like a father.</p><p>“What you felt about LaRusso,” he continues, “wasn’t guilt. That was empathy. Our deepest, strongest relationships are built on empathy.”</p><p>Driving home after his appointment, Johnny feels raw, gutted from stem to stern, and he knows he can’t get through it straight. He stops at his usual convenience store for a six pack, continues on to Miyagi’s house, sits in the backyard, and starts drinking. He’s three beers in and ruminating unhappily on what Nick told him about ‘post-traumatic stress’ by the time LaRusso finds him.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“Hey.” Johnny hands him the fourth Coors. LaRusso considers that he’s no longer taking the pain pills, and is tapering off the antianxiety, so a beer is probably all right. And Johnny looks like he needs some company.</p><p>“So.”</p><p>“So.”</p><p>“Rough appointment?”</p><p>“You don’t know the half of it,” Johnny tells him.</p><p>“Want to talk about it?”</p><p>“Hell, no. That’s why I’m out here drinking by myself.”</p><p>“All right,” LaRusso submits. “I just made ramen. I’ll bring some out to you.”</p><p>He’s off the crutches, Johnny notices, and is getting around pretty well with just the knee brace. The anxious tightness in his chest loosens, just a little.</p><p>They are both well beyond buzzed by the time they head back into the house after dark, leaving their noodle bowls and a tidy stack of empties behind them in the yard. Inside, they change out of their street clothes into more comfortable nightclothes, splash water on their faces and brush their teeth. They’re both stalling, putting off… something. They meet in the darkened living room, stand face to face. Johnny’s taller, but not by as much as he used to be.</p><p>“Well,” LaRusso says.</p><p>“Come here,” Johnny takes his arm and gently coaxes him towards the futon.</p><p>Daniel pulls them to a halt just short of the makeshift bed, and reaches up with his free hand to thread his fingers gently through Johnny’s hair. Johnny closes his eyes, exhales slowly through his nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Daniel tells him softly. “Johnny, what do you want?”</p><p>Johnny opens his eyes and admires Daniel’s finely-drawn features and clear olive skin. “I haven’t done this before,” he answers, knowing it’s a non-answer.</p><p>“I’m not sure when I’ll be… ready. Able. To-“ Daniel looks at his mouth, back to his eyes.</p><p>“Before we get that far,” Johnny says, and now he’s confident, because he can feel how <em>right</em> this is, “I want you at full strength. I like you feisty, LaRusso.”</p><p>Daniel bursts into a laugh. “Jesus, Johnny. Really?”</p><p>“Really.” Johnny laughs too, and pulls him the rest of the way to the futon. </p><p>He’s never made out with another guy before, never even <em>thought</em> about making out with a guy, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoys making out with Daniel. It’s the same <em>and</em> it’s different, more physical. He’s more aggressive than any girl he’s ever kissed, for one, and he’s stronger, firmer, giving as good as he’s getting. Johnny even likes the little bit of scruff on Daniel’s cheeks. </p><p>Johnny flips him onto his back, maneuvers himself on top, and runs a hand under his shirt to feel more of him. He braces himself with his other arm and works his mouth down LaRusso’s jaw to the tender skin at the base of his neck, then settles in to mark him with a hicky. Daniel is panting, fisting his hands into his hair, and Johnny can feel how hard they both are. “Fuck, LaRusso,” he gasps as he’s working his way back to Daniel’s mouth. He is determined to take his time and follow Daniel’s lead, but his body has other ideas so he’s grinding himself hard against Daniel through their clothes. He doesn’t seem to mind, because he lets go of Johnny’s hair and sets to work pulling his shirt off over his head. Johnny frees up an arm to give him an assist; with Daniel’s shirt already rucked up to his armpits, they are now skin-to-skin.</p><p>Johnny forces himself to slow down, then, to enjoy the feeling of their bodies close together. LaRusso feels like warm velvet, and Johnny is compelled to slide south and give one of his small, brown nipples a firm lick. He flinches and giggles like a girl in response.</p><p>“Oh shit, you’re ticklish?” Johnny teases him, dampening a finger to trace over his other nipple.</p><p>“I can’t help it, you asshole.” Daniel is squirming, and at the same time he’s running his hands down Johnny’s back, from the nape of his neck along his spine to the concavity of his lower back. Johnny shivers pleasurably and lets himself fall to one side, as close as he can get without crushing him. Both are breathing hard, and Daniel is staring at him like he’s the tastiest thing he’s ever seen in his life.</p><p>“This is good,” Johnny murmurs. “I didn’t know this could be so good.”</p><p>“Let’s do it some more,” Daniel suggests, pulling him back in. It’s a long time before they finally go to sleep.</p><p>They are woken by the sun around 8am, limbs entwined under twisted blankets. They look at each other cautiously in the morning light. Johnny is the first to reach out, touching LaRusso’s cheek. “We have to talk about this,” he murmurs, thumbing the edge of his jaw. “I can’t go out in public with beard burn.”</p><p>Daniel crinkles his eyes at him. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p>“Are you good? With this?”Johnny feels so… careful, with LaRusso.</p><p>Daniel runs his fingernails delicately down Johnny’s well-defined chest, stopping just short of his navel. “I’m good with you,” he answers.</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny drives Daniel to the valley medical complex for a pair of appointments – a physical checkin with Dr Alvarez herself, and a psychological followup with an assigned social worker. He doesn’t mind the former, but he wishes he’d found a way to get out of the latter appointment.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Johnny asks him. “I will, if you want.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about me, I have this,” Daniel tells him. “Do your thing.”</p><p>Johnny pats his shoulder before he gets out of the car.</p><p>Dr Alvarez greets him with the brusque, no-nonsense manner he has grown to expect from her. “Daniel.”</p><p>“Dr Alvarez.”</p><p>“Let’s have a look at you.”</p><p>He removes his shirt and his knee brace, and sits on the exam room table.</p><p>She peels back the bandage on his side and hums with approval. “These stitches can come out today,” she observes. Then she checks out his knee. The small arthroscopic incisions have closed nicely, and she seems satisfied with his range of motion. “Wear the brace another week,” she instructs. “Minimize time on your feet. No weight-bearing activities or heavy exercise for another two weeks after that.”</p><p>“I understand,” he agrees.</p><p>She listens to his breathing with her stethoscope, then looks him over more generally. “Lung is good. Ribs are healing as they should. Contusions are completely gone,” she observes. Belatedly, she notices the hicky on his neck and touches it clinically with two fingers. Embarrassed, he looks down.</p><p>“Daniel. Was this consensual?”</p><p>He grins shyly. “Yeah,” he admits. “Um, sorry about that.”</p><p>“No need to apologize. Lucky girl.” </p><p>He can’t help it; he cuts his eyes towards her, then looks away quickly.</p><p>“Ohh,” she realizes, and gives him a little smile. “Lucky guy? Is this new?”</p><p>He hesitates. “Very new,” he says. “I’ve never-“ he peters awkwardly to a stop, his face feeling like it’s on fire. This is not at all how he expected this conversation to go.</p><p>“I see.” She is smiling at him genuinely now. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ll send you home with some reading material. Will that be all right with you? You can call me if you have any questions.” It’s all he can do to nod.</p><p>“Thank you, Dr Alvarez,” he tells her sincerely. “You and Mr Owens both went out of your way to help me. I don’t even know what to say. And I know you really wanted me to report it to the police and do the rape kit.” This is the first time he’s spoken that word, and he almost manages to say it as though it’s any other word. “I couldn’t go through with it. I wasn’t ready to, I guess, acknowledge it.” </p><p>“Can I hug you?” she asks. Surprised, he nods his consent, and she embraces him warmly. “Daniel, only you get to decide what’s right for you. You’ve been very strong, and I’m proud of you. Don’t second-guess yourself, do you hear me?” She accompanies this with an emphatic little shake. </p><p>He nods, and he does feel relieved. “I hear you. Thank you.”</p><p>In the hour before his next appointment, he finds a quiet corner in the cafeteria and peeks into the plastic bag the nurse handed him after removing his stitches. There is a baffling array of pamphlets and booklets in there, mostly, but not only, about safe sex practices and STD prevention, accompanied by - <em>holy shit</em> - single-serving packets of lubricant and a generous variety of condoms. Daniel crumples the bag shut and crams it into his bookbag. His face is on fire all over again.</p><p>His second appointment with the social worker is not nearly as helpful. The social worker is a younger man, Bill Williamson. Daniel can’t stop thinking about his name – <em>did this guy’s parents really name him William Williamson? Is that normal? </em> – which is making it hard for him to focus.</p><p>‘Call me Billy’ has his complete file, and before any other preamble, tells Daniel about post-traumatic stress disorder. “Irritability, depression, isolation, nightmares, aggression, flashbacks and intrusive thoughts, and avoidance of same,” Billy recites drily. “They used to call it ‘shell shock’ back in World War II.”</p><p>“Okay,” Daniel responds. He has no idea where this is headed.</p><p>“I can recommend some services,” he continues. “Support groups. Followup evaluations-“</p><p>“Is there… treatment for PTSD?” Daniel asks. </p><p>“You’re already on it,” Billy answers. “Antidepressants if you’re depressed. Sleep aids if you experience sleep disturbances.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>“Anything else I can help you with, Daniel?”</p><p>“…I guess not.”</p><p>That night, while attempting to clean up the previous evening’s mess – the beer bottles, the noodle bowls and chopsticks – they start making out. Now that the dam has burst between them, they can’t keep their hands off each other. Daniel is helplessly holding onto Johnny’s broad shoulders while he’s nibbling his neck and working one of his thighs between Daniel’s legs, and it is the best feeling he has ever experienced. He’s melting happily into this embrace when Johnny threads the fingers of one hand into his hair and gently tugs. Daniel stiffens and his mind immediately takes him on an unwanted trip back to that night. He’s under the boardwalk all over again, on his knees in the sand, and someone is viciously twisting his arms behind him while pulling his head back, painfully, by the hair. In the present, he freezes, takes a slow step back, falls limply to his knees in the grass, and vomits on Johnny’s feet. </p><p>For several long moments, Johnny tries to process what just happened. He knows something he did caused this, but he has no idea what, and Daniel, still disassociated and noncommunicative, can’t tell him. He resorts to rubbing LaRusso’s back until his friend finally gasps, “he grabbed my hair. I didn’t remember that until tonight.”</p><p>Johnny carefully cradles the back of his head, watching his face. He’s relieved when Daniel closes his eyes and relaxes back into the gentle touch. “All right,” he says. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”</p><p>When the first nightmare wakes them both, Johnny makes him take one of the sleeping pills.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. And all that could have been</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“You stay here, you stay in guesthouse,” he says. “There is price.”</p><p>Johnny slides the oil collection pan underneath, takes the ratchet and socket Miyagi hands him. “What’s your price? I’m making ok money, I can pay rent.”</p><p>Miyagi answers him once he’s under the car. “You fix up guesthouse.”</p><p>Johnny has to laugh; he should have seen that one coming a mile away. He’s heard all about the fence-painting and deck-sanding Miyagi extracted out of LaRusso last year. He stands and they shake on the deal.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Miyagi Nariyoshi has just gone through the most difficult time in his life since the death of his wife over forty years prior. After taking his young charge into his home through the end of the school year, then losing his long-time job with nearly no notice period or time to prepare, he has journeyed two days to reach the home of his father, only to find his father too far gone to communicate. After the long years of absence, there will be no closure, no final understanding between them. He is the last of his line, alone, with no children of his own. His desolation is unspeakable.</p><p>His father lived three more days before dying. Then, he had to clean and prepare the body according to Buddhist practice, attend the body through the wake, and arrange for the funeral and cremation that followed. It was all exhausting and confusing; he’d left home so young, and had been gone for so many years, that the arrangements and the etiquette were very difficult to navigate. Nothing was as he remembered.</p><p>He was thankfully able to make time to deal with some unfinished village business before purchasing his return ticket, nearly two weeks after he left his comfortable home in the U.S. He is anxious to get back to the home he’d largely built himself, check on his little trees, and spend time with Daniel-san before he in turn leaves for Newark and his mother. He’s missed Daniel’s and Johnny’s graduation, and hopes both boys have been all right while he was gone. He also resolves that if he finds evidence of any house parties when he gets home, he’s going to kick their California-boy asses up and down his backyard.</p><p>The flight lands at the unlucky hour of 2am. Adding to this misery, it takes him an hour to make it through customs, get his luggage off the conveyor, find his car, and drive home. He rolls into the courtyard after 3 and is surprised to see Johnny’s car still in his drive. He’s never known the young man to stay the night before; he hopes nothing is wrong at home for his newest student, who has told him some unfortunate things about his situation with Sid.</p><p>To avoid waking either boy, he is very quiet when he unlocks and opens the front door. It doesn’t take him long to see that Johnny has brought a packed duffel, and the futon is set and made up for sleeping, but Johnny’s not under its covers. He is also puzzled by the crutches leaned up next to the doorframe and the collection of prescription pill bottles and packages of bandages by the sink. What the hell? He reads the label on one of the pill bottles – these are Daniel’s.</p><p>Still trying to be quiet, he heads for Daniel’s room and cracks the door open to peer inside. He sees something he never in his life could have imagined. Johnny and Daniel are asleep, together, on top of the covers with their limbs intertwined. Daniel’s face is tucked under the blond boy’s chin, and Johnny’s hand is cradling his dark head. Mercifully, they are fully clothed. An orthopedic brace is hanging from one of the bedposts; yet another pill bottle and a half-empty glass sit on the bedside table. This embrace is possibly the most tender thing he has ever seen, which freaks him out even more than he already was. As he’s thinking through all of this, he sees his presence in the doorway has woken Johnny; the boy’s eyes shine back at him from the darkened room. He gives him a little wave, then closes Daniel’s door.</p><p>As exhausted as he is, daylight wakes him at 7am, and he can’t force himself to go back to sleep. He’s in the kitchen having his second cup of tea when Johnny tiptoes into the living room, already dressed for his workday.</p><p>“Johnny-san not escape so easily,” Miyagi chides him gently. Johnny has the grace to look ashamed as he prepares his own cup of instant coffee in Miyagi’s kitchen. When he’s done, they both sit at the little dining table. Each waits for the other to say something.</p><p>Miyagi studies the blond boy’s face. He has come to know him a little bit in the weeks since Daniel first brought him over, and he thinks better of him than he did in the fall, when all he could see was a promising student ruined by a terrible teacher. He knows Johnny has blossomed after getting out from under Kreese’s influence. He himself has enjoyed training this new student, and there’s something he likes about this boy’s rough edges, his stubbornness and spark. Yet, he doesn’t fully trust Johnny. Trust takes time to grow, and they haven’t had that time.</p><p>“How was Okinawa?” Johnny attempts valiantly. </p><p>Miyagi grunts noncommittally. “What happened here?” he asks instead.</p><p>“It’s a long story,” Johnny sidesteps. “You, uh, you should talk to LaRusso.”</p><p>“I’m talking to you.”</p><p>Johnny deflates. To the older man’s shock, his eyes fill with tears and he quickly looks away. “He was… jumped by a couple of guys pretty soon after you left for Japan. He needed another surgery on his knee. That is healing well. He had some other… things wrong. He was in the hospital a couple of days.”</p><p>He suppresses the surge of concern for Daniel; there will be time for that later. Now, his concern is for the young man before him. “You stayed to take care of him. You became… close?”</p><p>“Yes,” he answers simply.</p><p>Miyagi reaches over and grips his forearm gently. “Johnny-san. Thank you.”</p><p>“I can’t talk about this,” Johnny chokes. He abruptly pulls his arm away, stands up and walks out through his front door.</p><p>Huh.</p><p>Miyagi waits for Daniel. He putters around his kitchen, setting things back to his liking, noting that while they’ve kept things relatively tidy, they’ve been drinking his good tea instead of the Earl Grey from the grocery store. They’ve at least left the saki alone, but he harrumphs disapprovingly when he finds the collection of beer bottles in the trash - another topic for the ‘house meeting’ he obviously needs to have with both boys.</p><p>It’s after 10 when Daniel wakes up, and 10:30 before he’s done shuffling around between his room and the hall bathroom. He’s visibly startled when he steps into the living room and spots Miyagi in the kitchen, then he grins broadly and rushes over to embrace the old man.</p><p>“Hey Mr Miyagi! I missed you! When did you get in? How was your trip? What happened with your dad?”</p><p>He holds up a hand to stem his student’s excited verbal tide. “My father, very ill. He died very soon after I arrived. This is why I was gone longer than I expected, Daniel-san. I needed to arrange the funeral.” </p><p>“Sensei, I’m so sorry.” Daniel reaches out to grasp his arm, much like he himself had done with Johnny earlier. “I know you were away for a long time. You must have missed him.” They sit in a brief, companionable silence, before his student, true to his restless nature, is up out of his seat and rattling around in the little kitchen, making himself a mug of instant coffee. Unlike Johnny who drinks the swill black, Daniel employs a liberal amount of cream and sugar.</p><p>Miyagi watches his young charge move around the kitchen and notes the obvious braced knee, but he’s also favoring one side – he can see it in the motion of his shoulders and the way he’s not bending or twisting normally - and he is moving stiffly in his back and hips. It must have been quite a fight.</p><p>He chooses not to comment directly on this, or the baffling interaction with Johnny earlier, or the embrace he saw last night. He doesn’t want to ask how his exams went, or his plans to go (or not) to Newark with his mother – the time isn’t right. His best service to Daniel, and frankly to himself, is to work on mobility and flexibility. His own back is tweaked after 14 hours in a horribly cramped seat in coach.</p><p>“Daniel-san, the flight was long, my back hurts. Join me for stretch.”</p><p>Daniel grins. “I’d love that,” he agrees. </p><p>While they work through their familiar routine, Miyagi mentions Johnny left earlier that morning. Daniel confirms Johnny’s work schedule, and for the first time, the older man senses reticence. His student is obviously unsure how much to share, perhaps fearing how he will respond. He knows Daniel well enough that he’s not entirely surprised the boy leans bisexual, but Johnny always struck him as straight as an arrow. Goes to show you never know, he concludes.</p><p>“He will come here after work,” Miyagi observes. Of course Johnny had told him no such thing – he didn’t have to. “Daniel-san, you think I am old man stuck in old ways.” He’s gently pushing Daniel between his shoulder blades, deepening the young man’s seated stretch.</p><p>“No, Mr Miyagi, I don’t-“</p><p>“Yes you do. I live in California in the 60s and the 70s. Age of Aquarius, free love.” Daniel coughs, surprised. “I see you and Johnny. If you are happy, Daniel-san, I am happy too.”</p><p>“This was not the conversation I expected this morning,” his student comments, smiling shyly, and the ice is broken, the reticence gone. Miyagi pats him affectionately on the back.</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny welcomes the physicality of his work because it forces him to burn through his anger and frustration productively when what he really wants to do is go straight to Cobra Kai and beat the everloving shit out of someone. Anyone. Everyone. He knows that’s a bad idea, that he’s likely to get the shit beat out of <em>him</em> if he finds himself up against too many Cobras at a time, but it’s still all he can think about. By the time he’s clocking out from his shift, though, he feels calm enough to get through the rest of the evening without an alcoholic assist.</p><p>He swaps the car for the dirtbike at Sid’s house and arrives at Miyagi’s around 6pm. He bears a bucket of KFC strapped to his luggage rack hoping this eases his reentry into what is sure to be an awkward discussion with his <em>romantic interest</em> and their sensei. Awkward or not, there’s no question in his mind he must go to Miyagi’s after work and talk to LaRusso.</p><p>Daniel is waiting for him when he opens the front door, and motions him into the back yard.</p><p>“He’s taking a nap,” LaRusso tells him. “Can we talk?”</p><p>Johnny nods and brings the bucket of fried chicken with him. They might as well eat while they talk; he’s starving.</p><p>“Listen,” Daniel starts, “about last night. I’m sorry-“</p><p>“No,” Johnny cuts him off sharply. “You don’t say you’re sorry about any of that shit. Not ever.”</p><p>LaRusso is watching him carefully.</p><p>“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Johnny continues resolutely. “In our counseling appointment, Nick, Mr Owens, told me about something this week called PTSD.”  When Daniel startles in recognition, he stops him. “We weren’t talking about you. I mean, he asked how you were doing, but, we were talking about me. Panic attacks. Flashbacks. That kind of thing.”</p><p>“You,” LaRusso says, and reaches for his hand.</p><p>“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. LaRusso, it’s been two weeks. Maybe we’re moving too fast. We can slow down while you work through all of this.”</p><p>LaRusso is shaking his head. “Johnny, I want this,” he says. “I feel so good with you. I love what we do.” Johnny’s heart (and his pants) gives a happy, fearful little lurch. “I don’t want to slow down.”</p><p>“Well,” Johnny can’t help a little grin, “now that sensei is back, we have to slow our roll anyway. At least find a new place to make out.”</p><p>“He knows,” Daniel tells him. “We talked this morning. He was actually pretty cool about it.”</p><p>“Did you.” Johnny grins lopsidedly, thinking about his own aborted discussion with Mr Miyagi that morning. “Who knew the old man had it in him.”</p><p>“I’ve been thinking too. And, uh, reading. Dr Alvarez sent some information home with me Wednesday. There’s some stuff in there about, uh, safe sex for men, stuff like that. And a booklet about safe words.”</p><p>“Whoa, hold up,” Johnny says. “Safe what?”</p><p>“Safe words. Like, a word that means ‘stop’, but without saying the word ‘stop’.”</p><p>“You said ‘safe sex for men’,” Johnny repeats slowly.</p><p>“Lawrence. Stay with me here.”</p><p>“Why would you need some new word instead of ‘stop’?” Johnny muses. “What’s wrong with ‘stop’? I’ll stop if you tell me to stop. What else does it say?”</p><p>“There was a lot of information about lube, and samples.”</p><p>“Lube?” He’s thinking engine oil, or chain lube, and that makes no sense.</p><p>“Lubricant,” LaRusso clarifies impatiently.</p><p>Johnny licks chicken grease off his fingers while he thinks about the mechanics of this whole thing. The permutations. The options. He’s flexible, he decides, up for anything Daniel is willing to try. He can take it as well as he can give it. “LaRusso, listen. If you think you’re gonna try any of that shit on me, with the lube and the safe words-“ </p><p>LaRusso groans. “John-“</p><p>“-I’m game to try it, if you want to pull out your-“</p><p>“Johnny!”</p><p>“-samples and see if you can fit your tab A into my, uh, slot B-“</p><p>LaRusso tackles him into the grass, knocking his chicken leg out of his hand. </p><p>“-you gotta buy me dinner first, I don’t give it up easy-“ Now they’re both laughing. LaRusso is still weak as a kitten, but for his sake, and because it’s fun, Johnny allows himself to be overpowered and wrestled onto his back. It feels like their sparring in the old days, but better.</p><p>...</p><p>LaRusso is shaping one of the trees out in the workshop when Johnny goes into the house to find Mr Miyagi, intending to apologize for walking out on the conversation that morning. He finally finds the man outside in the courtyard, puttering with a couple of the old cars.</p><p>“Hey Mr Miyagi, I’m sorry about this morning,” he starts, but Miyagi waves him off.</p><p>“Okay, Johnny-san. All ok. Come, help with this.” Johnny walks closer to find him lifting an air filter out of its housing. He pulls the fresh one out of the box and hands it to the older man, then takes the dirty one, disposes of it and the box. The old man grunts in approval, and they move on to the next car. </p><p>Miyagi asks him, “How long since you went home?”</p><p>“Almost two weeks,” Johnny answers. “I pick up some clothes now and then. But I’ve been staying here. I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Trouble at home?”</p><p>“Just the usual. I don’t think they miss me,” Johnny chuckles without humor.</p><p>Miyagi grunts, and they swap out another filter. Then, Miyagi puts him to work jacking up this car and getting jackstands underneath. “You stay here, you stay in guesthouse,” he says. “There is price.”</p><p>Johnny slides the oil collection pan underneath, takes the ratchet and socket Miyagi hands him. “What’s your price? I’m making ok money, I can pay rent.”</p><p>Miyagi answers him once he’s under the car. “You fix up guesthouse.”</p><p>Johnny has to laugh; he should have seen that one coming a mile away. He’s heard all about the fence-painting and deck-sanding Miyagi extracted out of LaRusso last year. He stands and they shake on the deal.</p><p>While the oil drains, he sets to work replacing the oil filter. Not having to look at Miyagi helps him get through this discussion more easily than this morning when they were face-to-face at the table. “Mr Miyagi, I need to tell you some things, and you aren’t going to like them.” He tells his sensei that LaRusso wasn't in a fight, exactly, but was caught out and attacked by three guys. “I know who two of them are. I dealt with one of them already –“ and here, Miyagi looks at him sharply, “- and the other one is gone. No one can tell me where he is. I don’t know the third guy, just a nickname.”</p><p>“Karate for defense only, not for revenge,” Miyagi reprimands him firmly.</p><p>Johnny restrains his temper with some effort. Miyagi doesn’t have the full picture, which isn’t the old man’s fault, and it’s really not Johnny’s story to tell. He does feel obligated to warn Miyagi about the nightmares ahead of this evening. “Be careful waking him up, he gets violent. Maybe it would be better if he took his sleeping pill before bed – but that’s up to him, and he doesn’t like how sluggish they make him feel the next day.”</p><p>He’s about to scoot under the car again to replace the drain plug when he finally registers the baffled look Miyagi is giving him. “He didn’t tell you anything, did he,” Johnny comments. “I thought you and he talked today. Fuck.” He torques the plug and drags the oil collection pan out with him.</p><p>“How bad was this attack?” Miyagi muses while Johnny funnels in the fresh oil.</p><p>He sighs as he lowers the front end. “You have to talk to LaRusso about that.”</p><p>…</p><p>After a dinner of Chinese takeout, Miyagi lays down the law:</p><p>“No beer in the house. No drinking here unless I am serving.” </p><p>“Yes, sensei.” “Ok, Mr Miyagi.”</p><p>“Johnny-san is on the futon this weekend. Then he moves to the guesthouse. No funny business.”</p><p>Cheeks flush in embarrassment all around the table.</p><p>“Daily meditation, daily katas. You are both stressed. Not healthy.”</p><p>They look at each other. “We can do that.”</p><p>“No more sparring with each other. You find new sparring partners.”</p><p>They’re both confused. “Why can’t we spar?” one of them asks.</p><p>“You can spar, but not to train. You hold back, be careful. Bad habits. Bad training.”</p><p>Miyagi watches Johnny aim a slow, sweet smile at Daniel. “He’s not wrong,” he says gently. Daniel shrugs with an abashed look of his own. It’s all a bit surreal, but maybe they can make it work and keep the household sane in the process.</p><p>That night, LaRusso’s thrashing brings them both to his room. Johnny gets there first, shakes him awake and catches his fists in his hands until he stops fighting. “Goddamnit,” Daniel cries hoarsely when his eyes finally focus on Johnny. “You’re safe,” Johnny tells him over and over.</p><p>Miyagi has seen enough and moves Johnny firmly aside. He helps Daniel sit upright, and rubs his hands together briskly before placing them on Daniel’s chest through his tshirt. “Remember your meditation,” he instructs. “Bring a memory to your mind. Something happy. Bring it before you. Focus only on that.”</p><p>“Mr Miyagi, I can’t-“ Daniel is still panicking.</p><p>“You can. Do it.”</p><p>Daniel squeezes his eyes closed and struggles to calm his breathing. “Go,” Miyagi orders Johnny. “Wait outside.” He obeys.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, Miyagi emerges and finds Johnny hunched miserably on the futon. Miyagi has been back in his own house for fewer than 24 hours, he is exhausted, frustrated, worried about both boys, and for the first time in many years, he’s struggling to maintain his own balance. This is no good at all. He left a serene home in the care of his happy, stable student for a few days, and he returned two weeks later to this chaos – both youths are basket cases, at least one of them is suffering battle fatigue severe enough to wake the household nightly, there are pills and beer bottles in his kitchen, and, on top of everything else, he’s unemployed and needs to find another job, quickly. Then there is this new relationship drama he has no idea how to deal with, assuming he should be dealing with it at all. He never signed up to parent two overgrown teenagers. For the nth time today, he wishes his bedroom’s window didn’t allow him to hear everything said in the backyard. </p><p>He’s never been the most physically-demonstrative man, even with his favorite student, but he makes an exception tonight and wraps one arm around this young man’s shoulders. “You do a lot,” he tells him, “you do a good job. But now, my responsibility. Too much to ask of you.”</p><p>“No, it’s not too-“</p><p>“Too much.” On this, he is very firm. “Johnny-san, you have troubles too. You’re tired. Away from family. No plans for future. Take care of yourself now. Get rest. Start over tomorrow.”</p><p>Johnny looks like he wants to argue, but the fight’s gone out of him. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time,” he says instead.</p><p>Miyagi grunts and pats his shoulder gently. “Sleep now,” he instructs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Miyagi’s POV and a lesson in basic car mechanics. What other fic gives you all that?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. I would for you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Bobby can’t restrain his own gentle smile because he’s never seen his friend like this before, so obviously soft, rapt, over anyone. It strikes him that this surprising relationship both explains and is the natural consequence of everything that has happened. Johnny’s consistent fixation, obsession really, with LaRusso. His over-the-top jealousy when Ali took up with him weeks after Ali and Johnny had already broken up. The look on his face back when LaRusso showed up at Cobra Kai. His obvious conflict when Kreese set them both against LaRusso at the tournament. What he did to Tommy at the beach. Everything he did for Daniel.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More fluff, less guff.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day passes in a self-imposed blur for Johnny. He wakes early, leaves before anyone else is up, and spends his Saturday on the job laying a stone patio for a client. It’s physically-demanding labor, so he clocks out tired. After work, at Miyagi’s, one of the cars is gone, and so are both LaRusso and Miyagi, so he occupies a couple of hours clearing junk out the guesthouse. Then he washes up, runs out to the store and buys the ingredients for the simple pasta, sauce and meatballs he and his mom used to make together when he was a kid and it was just them, before Sid. It’s 6pm by the time he cautiously enters the house and sets the grocery bags in the kitchen. The car is back; he assumes LaRusso and Miyagi must also be, although he neither sees nor hears them. Only after he has the pasta boiling does he see them both out back, meditating.</p><p>Dinner is a quiet affair; both LaRusso and Mr Miyagi look as wiped out as he feels. After they are finished, Miyagi pats him on the shoulder and retires early, leaving them to themselves. LaRusso clears the table, then they do the dishes together, an odd distance between them.</p><p>LaRusso is the first to break through the quiet. “I didn’t know you could cook, like, real food.”</p><p>“Not sure this qualifies as cooking, but thanks.”</p><p>“Show me the guesthouse? I’ve never seen the inside.”</p><p>Johnny nods and feels himself break into a little smile.</p><p>There isn’t much to show; the guesthouse is really one room and a semi-finished bathroom attached to the back side of the workshop. The room is large enough, but floored in plywood, walled with unpainted, untaped sheetrock, and is well-spidered judging by the webs. There is no kitchen, and Johnny expects he’ll use the kitchen in the house for his meals. The only entrance is through a large glass sliding door that faces away from the rest of the house and opens directly into the gardens. In the bathroom, the toilet and simple shower look functional, but there’s no sink, mirror, or any other fixtures. The space is what a landlord might call a studio, a very small one, and the kindest description of its condition would be ‘primitive’.</p><p>“My ‘rent’ is finishing it out,” Johnny says.</p><p>LaRusso laughs. “That’s so Mr Miyagi. Johnny, it could be really nice in here. Private.”</p><p>“Private, huh?” Johnny raises a suggestive eyebrow – but he’s determined to let his partner lead this dance. “I can get some materials through Bobby’s dad’s contractor discount. I have some ideas. Some kind of wood flooring. Some trim. A good pullout bed. A decent TV.”</p><p>Daniel has perched himself on what looks like an old barstool and is still studying the space. Whatever he envisions, he doesn’t share. Instead, he says, “Sensei took me for a drive this afternoon, a long one. We went back to some of the places we’ve trained outdoors, along route 1, through a lot of the valley.”</p><p>Johnny knows LaRusso hasn’t left the house for anything except his medical appointments since their graduation over a week ago. “How was that?”</p><p>“Ok. It felt good to be out of the house.” Johnny waits; there’s more, he knows. “He wanted me to take him to where the, uh, fight happened. It took us a while to get that far.”</p><p>Johnny realizes he has no idea where it happened, and that seems odd when he thinks about it. “A ways away?” he guesses.</p><p>“Just the other side of Topanga,” LaRusso tells him. “At the beach.”</p><p>That’s an unpleasant punch to Johnny’s gut. It sounds like it’s probably the beach where he and the guys used to hang out. The same one Daniel and Ali would have come from, that day Johnny saw them making out in LaRusso’s Ford. Where that fateful beach party was the previous summer. Where he kicked Tommy’s ass the week before last. He reaches out to rest a hand on LaRusso’s lower back and waits for him to continue.</p><p>“He said it will help my ‘battle fatigue’ to revisit the place. Whatever that is. It felt weird. There were a lot of people there since it’s the weekend, and that helped. I felt safe with sensei. We walked across the same boardwalk where they caught up to me. I looked over the side, where we fell off into the sand and the rest of it happened. There was nothing there. No sign anything happened.”</p><p>Johnny rubs his back, watching him. “You didn’t tell him all of it. You’re letting him believe it was just a fight.” It’s a statement, not a question.</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“Ok.” Johnny can’t bring himself to object because it’s probably what he would do if he were in LaRusso’s place.</p><p>“We went and sat where I had been sitting that afternoon, and practiced that meditation technique from last night. He told me to make new associations, that over time it will help.”</p><p>Johnny nods, thinking about how Miyagi forced their first lesson to be about breaking a chokehold, how difficult that was for him, and how necessary it had been for his own ability to move forward. “That sounds right.”</p><p>“He also said you need a break. He thinks I’m asking too much of you.”</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. “That’s not quite what he said to me.” He looks into LaRusso’s fathomless brown eyes; they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. “And I didn’t say that, because it’s not true. You haven’t. He told me I need to take care of myself, handle my ‘troubles’. And something about his responsibility for you. I think he’s trying to say something like ‘put on your own oxygen mask first’?” Johnny posits. “It’s also possible he doesn’t think sleeping together every night is the right way to deal with your nightmares.”</p><p>Daniel looks a little uncomfortable. “I’m sorry it’s been like that.”</p><p>“I told you to stop apologizing for that shit.”</p><p>“I meant that he’s right. That’s not the right reason for us spending time together.”</p><p>Johnny stares at him, not at all sure where this is going.</p><p>“We should be together because it feels good. Great,” LaRusso tells him, and now there’s a little glint, a spark.</p><p>“Really, LaRusso? You should tell me more,” he teases, and he’s definitely <em>sparking</em> back.</p><p>“Well, it’s like this,” and Daniel reaches an arm around Johnny’s waist and pulls him in closer to nip at his lower lip, and, for Johnny, the overture is too tempting to resist. He leans into the embrace, maneuvering himself between LaRusso’s lean thighs to deepen their kiss, and moans when LaRusso locks his hips tight to his own with one leg and starts running both of his hands up his back under his shirt. Clutching him in turn, Johnny runs his own fingers lightly along the back of Daniel’s neck and is gratified to feel him shiver in response. They’re both hard, again, and pressing against each other through layers of clothes when LaRusso surprises him by withdrawing one hand from under his shirt to grasp Johnny through his shorts. “Fuck,” Johnny gasps, “LaRusso-“</p><p>“Yeah,” Daniel is out of breath, pupils wide-open in the darkening room.</p><p>“Let me-“ Johnny can’t even formulate the proposal he wants to make, he’s so turned on and desperate to return the favor, so instead he reaches his own hand down to LaRusso’s belly and starts to nudge his fingertips under his waistband. “-yeah?”</p><p>LaRusso stares back at him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, and Johnny is twisting around, trying to find the right angle from where his arm currently is to execute the move that’s playing through his mind right now. They’re both giggling until Johnny finally reaches his destination and manages to free Daniel’s member from his underwear and shorts. The intimate contact quickly has them gasping into each other’s mouths.</p><p>“I’ll make you feel so fucking good,” Johnny promises as he starts to stroke him, holding onto him with one arm while he pumps him with the other hand that’s already well-lubricated by Daniel’s precum. Johnny’s shorts are soaking through with a wet spot of their own as he presses himself hard against one of LaRusso’s thighs. He watches in fascination as Daniel’s face goes slack and his eyes literally roll towards the back of his head. “Come on, stay with me,” he instructs, and Daniel comes, explosively, in his hand.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Daniel finally murmurs once he’s able to re-focus his eyes on Johnny’s face, “holy shit.” He reaches for Johnny again, perhaps intending to reciprocate, but Johnny gently stops his hand. “Too late,” he laughs, “I already creamed my pants like a dork.” He tugs off his shirt and uses it to blot both of them dry, while Daniel, who has tucked his face against Johnny’s bare shoulder, nips gently at his neck and hums in satisfaction.</p><p>With their urgency released, they fall back into a gentle embrace, Johnny leaning bonelessly into Daniel, whose own hands are buried in Johnny’s hair. LaRusso clearly has a thing for his hair, not that he minds. They finally break apart and look into each others’ eyes.</p><p>“I’ll miss you tonight,” Johnny murmurs. </p><p>Daniel’s only response is to pull him in for another deep, slow kiss.</p><p>…</p><p>They’re each a little late getting up the next morning, even though they’ve both enjoyed a calm, uninterrupted night for once, and find Mr Miyagi already at the dining table drinking his morning tea. As they both move around in the kitchen making their instant coffees, they’re catching each other’s eyes, ‘inadvertently’ touching hands, rubbing hips, exchanging secret little grins, suggestively passing the creamer back and forth – there’s an entire conversation happening in the near-silence of Miyagi’s humble little kitchen.</p><p>Mr Miyagi finally rolls his eyes and stalks out the back door to the refuge of his workshop.</p><p>Johnny can’t help but laugh, and when he catches LaRusso by the hips and pulls him close, Daniel is laughing too. They take a moment to tenderly taste each other’s mouths before separating once more.</p><p>“We’d better cool it,” Daniel whispers, running a thumb along one of Johnny’s clavicles through his t-shirt, “or he’s going to throw us both out.”</p><p>Johnny is staring at his lips. “You’re probably right,” he murmurs as he leans forward and mouths the firm line of LaRusso’s jaw.</p><p>Daniel threads one hand into Johnny’s hair and <em>grips</em>.</p><p>Johnny grasps Daniel’s other hand in his own and intertwines their fingers. </p><p>Daniel leans closer and bites Johnny’s earlobe.</p><p>Johnny groans and sags against him. “We have to get out of here, LaRusso,” he sighs.</p><p>With effort, they untangle from each other and walk casually out the door to the backyard for their mandatory morning meditation with Mr Miyagi.</p><p>Later, Johnny is driving them both to the building supply store in the yellow Ford, and LaRusso is losing his metaphorical shit, obviously having some kind of anxious paroxysm, telling Johnny to slow down already, asking him why he’s in such a hurry, reminding him there’s no power steering and the old drum brakes aren’t like what he’s used to, explaining this is a classic car that deserves respect-</p><p>“LaRusso! Calm. The fuck. Down.”</p><p>Daniel sinks down in his seat, hands over his face. “I can drive myself next week,” he murmurs.</p><p>“You just do that,” Johnny replies as they park.</p><p>“What are we doing here, Lawrence?” Daniel asks him</p><p>“Are you asking metaphorically, or literally?” Johnny asks. “Because, metaphorically, I’m trying to get into your pants. Or get you into my pants. Either way.”</p><p>“Johnny,” LaRusso laughs.</p><p>“Literally, we’re here to get some stuff for the guesthouse,” Johnny continues, “so we have somewhere nice to get it on.”</p><p>“All right,” Daniel says, “let’s do it.”</p><p>As they’re loading boxes of engineered bamboo planks onto the cart, Johnny tells him he has another idea. “I’ve been thinking about sparring partners. How would you feel about bringing Bobby in?”</p><p>“Bobby,” LaRusso repeats, looking at him expressionlessly. “You mean Bobby ‘put him out of commission’ Brown? Cobra Kai Bobby? That Bobby?”</p><p>“He’s sorry about that,” Johnny mumbles.</p><p>They select the underlayment and floor staples in uncomfortable silence.</p><p>“He was all right at graduation,” he finally concedes.</p><p>“He was the first one to turn in his belt and quit after the tournament,” Johnny said quietly. “He was pissed about what Kreese had him do.”</p><p>“That makes two of us,” he replies sharply.</p><p>“Three of us. Don’t forget I’m the one who swept your leg.”</p><p>Daniel stares at him. “Why would you bring that up?”</p><p>“It’s just…” Johnny is tapping out, crying uncle. He’ll never have the high ground when it comes to the 1984 All Valley. “He’s a good guy. Really. He’s probably my best friend.”</p><p>They’re waiting in line to rent the floor stapler when LaRusso gently bumps shoulders with him. “Okay.”</p><p>“Okay what?” </p><p>“Okay we can talk to Bobby,” he replies quietly, looking at him with those ridiculous brown eyes.</p><p>Johnny puts an arm around his slender shoulders and squeezes, ignoring the clerk’s raised eyebrow. “Thank you,” he murmurs.</p><p>Later, in the guesthouse, Johnny’s dry-fitting the first plank in the main room. Daniel isn’t in any shape to be down on the floor measuring or stapling, but he insists on manning Miyagi’s old chopsaw, which they’re running off an extension cord from the main house. Johnny is immensely thankful to be spared the misery of constantly getting up and down, moving between saw and floor. This job will go quickly, he thinks.</p><p>While he’s whacking at the floor stapler with a mallet, Daniel clears his throat. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts.</p><p>“Hold on,” Johnny replies. “I can’t hear shit over this thing.” He finishes thwacking in the first course and stands to admire his work. “What’s up, LaRusso?”</p><p>“I’m thinking about applying for a job over at Northwest Import Sales. They posted an ad in the classifieds looking for trainees.” </p><p>Johnny lets that hang in the air while he selects the boards for the second course. He flips the last board over, marks it, and hands it to LaRusso to make the cut. Only after the chopsaw sings through the cut does he reply. “So you’re planning to stay in Reseda.”</p><p>LaRusso returns the board to him with a little smirk. “Yeah, Lawrence, I’m planning to stay in Reseda.”</p><p>Johnny can’t help smiling as he fits the second course. When he picks up the mallet to strike the nailer, he takes a moment to aim a raised eyebrow at LaRusso. “What does your ma think about that?” <em>Thwack</em>.</p><p>Daniel frowns. “I haven’t told her yet.”</p><p>Johnny nails the second course in silence, lips tight.</p><p>“I’ll tell her tonight when she calls.”</p><p>Johnny is sorting through the boards, selecting pieces for the the third course with a singular focus.</p><p>“Johnny. I’ll tell her.”</p><p>Johnny measures and marks the last board, looks up at LaRusso from where he’s kneeling, and feels the grin stretch across his face. “You’ll tell her,” he repeats slowly. “Tonight.”</p><p>“Yeah,” and LaRusso is grinning back at him like a Cheshire cat, eyes aglow.</p><p>After a couple of hours of work, the flooring is complete in the main room. They stand shoulder to shoulder inspecting the smooth expanse of joined planks. “We make a good team,” Johnny observes, giving LaRusso a bracing little shake around the shoulders.</p><p>“Yeah,” Daniel agrees, satisfied. “We do.”</p><p>…</p><p>“Sweetheart! How is my boy?!” Lucille is so excited to finally talk to her son after several days; her longing transmits across the phone lines with her voice.</p><p>“Hey ma, yeah, I’m doing great,” he tells her. “How’s Uncle Louie feeling? How are things in Newark?”</p><p>“Oh Daniel, it’s tough,” she says. “Your uncle is doing all right. He mostly sleeps, but we enjoy some nice times here with the family. I’m staying here with him, in the apartment, to stay close. You know, be helpful.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, ma,” he tells her. “Are you doing okay?”</p><p>“Oh honey, I’m doing okay,” she replies. “You are sweet for asking. Don’t worry about me here. So Daniel. What about you.”</p><p>“Well, ma, I wanted to-“</p><p>“We need to talk about your future,” she interrupts.</p><p>“…ok. Ma, I’m looking for jobs here in Reseda. I want to stay here.”</p><p>Silence. Then, “so you don’t want to come back east?”</p><p>He screws up his courage and reminds himself to be brave. “I’ve met someone.”</p><p>“Not another one like that Ali. She wasn’t like us, honey. Her family looked down at us from day one.”</p><p>“No ma, not like Ali.”</p><p>“Well, what’s her name? Tell me about this girl who’s keeping my boy in California.” Now, he can hear his ma smiling over the phone.</p><p>“So.”</p><p>“Sweetie, what is it?”</p><p>He takes a deep breath. “Ma, the girl is a guy. Johnny.”</p><p>More silence. Then, “Johnny, pretty boy from the tournament Johnny?”</p><p> “Yeah, tournament Johnny.”</p><p>“Well. Daniel.” Another extended silence. “Is this boy being good to you? Are you happy?”</p><p>“He’s… yes. He’s good to me. I’m happy, ma. I want to stay here and… see where it goes.”</p><p>“Oh honey. Well. He <em>was</em> very handsome.”</p><p>Daniel grins.</p><p>…</p><p>After Johnny comes home from work the next evening, Bobby shows up at Miyagi’s in his little Datsun. They sit together on a bench at the far side of one of the raised walkways, ignoring Miyagi and Daniel, who are watching them suspiciously from the patio.</p><p>“So, this is a little awkward,” Bobby observes. “I don’t think they like me. You’re really training with Mr Miyagi as your sensei?”</p><p>“Yes. We already covered this,” Johnny reminds him.</p><p>“And you’re living here now.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Johnny confirms. “It’s nice.”</p><p>“It is nice here,” Bobby agrees, surveying the serene space.</p><p>“We need someone to spar with,” Johnny explains. “Especially him. He’s ok with this. Mostly. Kind of.”</p><p>“Johnny,” Bobby faces him and speaks directly. “Level with me. Why am I here? You were training together before. He’s not comfortable with me. I tried to take him out at the tournament. <em>You</em> tried to take him out at the tournament. What do you need <em>me</em> for?”</p><p>Johnny’s eyes flit to LaRusso over on the opposite side of the yard, and one corner of his mouth lifts the tiniest bit. Daniel looks back at him, jaw tight, eyes dark and sharp – then his face breaks into the smallest smirk, and he shakes his head, nearly imperceptibly. Johnny crinkles his eyes at him in response. Daniel’s own eyes drop microscopically to Johnny’s mouth.</p><p>Bobby watches this silent exchange, and he’s a little surprised, but maybe not as much as he could be. “Oh, Johnny Lawrence. You are not.”</p><p>“I am,” he murmurs, still gazing fondly at LaRusso. When he realizes Bobby is watching him, though, his cheeks redden self-consciously. “Bobby, are you all right with this? It’s complicated.”</p><p>Bobby can’t restrain his own gentle smile because he’s never seen his friend like this before, so obviously soft, rapt, over <em>anyone</em>. It strikes him that this surprising relationship both explains and is the natural consequence of everything that has happened. Johnny’s consistent fixation, obsession really, with LaRusso. His over-the-top jealousy when Ali took up with him weeks after Ali and Johnny had already broken up. The look on his face back when LaRusso showed up at Cobra Kai. His obvious conflict when Kreese set them both against LaRusso at the tournament. What he did to Tommy at the beach. Everything he did for Daniel.</p><p>“Yeah, Johnny, I’m all right with this.” He’s still smiling when he rests a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Let’s go talk to him.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em> Clearly warming to the role of initiator in this encounter, Daniel pulls Johnny’s t-shirt over his head and flings it across the room.</em>
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  <em>“Fucker.” Johnny peels Daniel’s sport coat from his slender shoulders and starts working on his shirt buttons. “An undershirt? Really?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Looks sharp,” Daniel retorts. “What’s the matter, something getting in your way?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not anymore,” Johnny counters, ripping the rest of the shirt buttons off in his haste to remove it from his shoulders.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That shirt cost me $30,” Daniel gripes.</em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel is two weeks into his training with Northwest Imports Auto Sales, where he’s shadowing one of the salespeople and, when he’s lucky, getting some face time with the dealership’s general manager. He was required to invest in a couple of suits and sport coats as well as some decent shoes – “You can’t wear sneakers on the sales floor, kid,” his mentor had counseled him – and he <em>loves</em> it. He drives himself in to the dealership four or five days a week and works 8am to 5pm. His income is minimal at the low hourly rate he’s being paid through his monthlong training period, but after that, he’s commission-based. It’s all up to him then, and he’s all in, telling both Miyagi and Johnny that he’s confident he can do well. His mentor says he has potential; he is mathematically-inclined and has a good sense for constructing deals, and the customers all seem to take a shine to the spunky young man with the fast northeastern accent.</p><p>Every day, around 5:30pm, Daniel and Johnny converge at Miyagi’s after their respective shifts and dress out. Bobby drives up in the courtyard in his old Datsun most days at 6,  changes into his gi in Johnny’s guesthouse, then the three young men assemble before Sensei Miyagi for whatever combination of warmup, stretching, forms, and exercises the old man has in mind. Finally, in the remaining daylight, they take turns sparring and scoring.</p><p>The arrangement with Bobby comes within a hair’s breadth of falling apart because LaRusso is still holding a grudge and definitely hasn’t forgotten Bobby’s actions at the tournament. He guards his still-weak knee more than he should, affecting his balance and frustrating Mr Miyagi beyond all endurance, and his temper gets the better of him in the heat of practice, leading him to cross the line into unnecessary, out-of-bounds strikes at Bobby’s expense. When this costs him points in their self-scored matches, he gets even more pissed off and runs his mouth like the scrappy Jersey kid he still is.</p><p>It finally comes to a head one afternoon when Bobby entreats Daniel to <em>come on, chill out already</em>. He feels the rage rise in him, a disbelieving anger that this Cobra Kai asshole has the unmitigated gall to tell <em>him</em> to chill out after all they’ve done to him, and retorts furiously, “or what, Bobby, you’re gonna take me out of commission again?”</p><p>Bobby abandons his stance and stares back at him angrily. “You know what? Fuck this. I’m out.” </p><p>“Christ, LaRusso, what the hell,” Johnny blurts sharply before jogging after Bobby, who is stalking towards the courtyard and his car.</p><p>His anger subsides nearly as quickly as it had risen, and is replaced with shame and regret, deepened further when he sees Miyagi’s disappointment in him. “It’s time to forgive, as you forgave Johnny,” the older man counsels him.</p><p>“That was different,” he protests, but he knows it’s not, not really. They had the same teacher, were given the same directive, and followed the order for the same reasons. And, he knows, both regretted it, and both left their dojo and sensei that night. He finally has to admit to himself that they are both good men who made a mistake, and he knows Bobby didn’t have anything to do with the rest of it. “Shit.” He turns and jogs after Bobby and Johnny.</p><p>He finds the two having a quiet, intense discussion next to Bobby’s car; Johnny looks like he’s pleading, and Bobby’s arms are crossed, posture stiff and jaw clenched. He approaches the pair with his hands up in what he intends to be an appeasing gesture, and both silence abruptly. Johnny looks at him sadly; Bobby avoids eye contact, instead looking at his feet in the dusty drive.</p><p>Daniel speaks directly to Bobby. “Bobby, I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Bobby still isn’t looking at him. “I came here to help you because Johnny asked me to,” he grits out. This is followed by an uncomfortable silence.</p><p>Daniel screws up his courage; he’s not practiced at apologies. “You’re right. You’re important to Johnny, so you’re important to me. I understand if you don’t want to come back. I hope you will. I’ll stop acting like an asshole.”</p><p>Bobby sighs and finally looks up to meet his eyes. “It’s on me too. I never apologized for what I did. I’m sorry. It wasn’t right. None of that shit was right.”</p><p>“It’s… ok. I have an idea how it was. Um. Thank you.” He turns and heads back into the courtyard and into the house, not feeling terribly relieved or lightened by any aspect of the conversation, dreading what Johnny will say, and worst of all, dreading Johnny’s disappointment in him.</p><p>…</p><p>Outside, Johnny sighs; he’s known Bobby for a long time and can see he’s still angry.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m not making excuses for him – he has a temper to start with – but he’s working through some things. Sometimes he’s just… pissed off.”</p><p>Bobby is silent for a moment. “I guess I can’t blame him. Johnny, he knows I didn’t know anything about the other thing, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, he knows.”</p><p>“So, Dutch-“</p><p>“We’re not <em>fucking</em> talking about Dutch,” he growls, looking over his shoulder towards the courtyard to assure himself LaRusso is out of earshot.</p><p>“-is in prison. He robbed a liquor store and shot someone. Jimmy told me.”</p><p>Johnny’s silent for a long moment, then. “How long?” </p><p>“A long time. Years.”</p><p>Johnny feels an immediate, vindictive slash of satisfaction, but underneath this, he mourns for Dutch and the friendship they once shared.</p><p>“Good.” </p><p>Bobby pats Johnny’s shoulder. “Ok. See you both tomorrow?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>…</p><p>Daniel approaches Johnny tentatively while he’s making dinner. “Hey, need any help?”</p><p>Johnny just wraps an arm around him and presses his cheek against Daniel’s hair for a moment. “No,” he says simply, giving him a squeeze before returning his focus to the sauté pan. Miyagi glances at them over his tea, but quickly averts his eyes from the affectionate display.</p><p>…</p><p>The next day, Johnny drives Miyagi’s little pickup into the courtyard, toting a sofabed in the back. “Hey, sensei, come help me with this!” he calls.</p><p>“Johnny-san,” the old man calls. “Good find there.”</p><p>Johnny has absconded with the leather sofabed from Sid’s basement with his mom’s blessing, while Sid was out of town of course. “Not just this,” he enthuses. “Also this fine RCA television. But it’s heavy. Can you help me?”</p><p>Mr Miyagi grunts in assent. “Let’s go,” he agrees, and together, they muscle the large tube TV into the guesthouse. “You need an antenna,” he comments as they’re positioning it in the room. “No cable here.”</p><p>“Who can afford cable,” Johnny agrees. “Let’s get the couch.” It’s unwieldy, significantly heavier, and he doesn’t have any sheets for it, nor pillows. Miyagi does, though; he brings a set gallantly into the little guesthouse, and even helps Johnny stretch the sheets across the sofabed’s mattress.</p><p>“Now, Johnny-san, your home is ready.” The old man pats him on the back.</p><p>“Thank you, sensei,” he tells him earnestly, and they both look around at his handiwork, together. The walls have been taped, mudded, and painted a calm sage green that the nice lady at Ace Hardware helped him choose. He’s nailed in baseboard and crown molding that reminds him a little bit of Sid’s palatial home. The bathroom is tiled in white ceramic and finished with a minimalist pedestal sink and light fixture. He’s hung a dotted red shower curtain around the old clawfoot tub - it reminds him of LaRusso – and installed vertical blinds over the glass sliders to the garden. As a finishing touch and respite from the atrocious instant coffee he’s been subjected to for weeks now, he’s bought a decent coffee maker and placed it on one of the side tables near the sofabed. Finally, his guesthouse is livable – and suitable for company.</p><p>Even Bobby is impressed when he sees the finished product.</p><p>“Thanks man. I’m glad you came back.”</p><p>“Don’t make it a thing,” Bobby replies. “We’re good.” He looks across the yard to Daniel, who responds with a neutral little nod. It’s a start.</p><p>…</p><p>That evening, after Mr Miyagi has retired to his own bedroom, Johnny takes LaRusso by the hand and, with a slow smile, leads him through Miyagi’s kitchen, through the back door, and towards his guesthouse.</p><p>“What are you up to,” he asks lightly, “taking me back to your lair?”</p><p>“You’ll see,” Johnny replies, and opens the slider with a little flourish.</p><p>LaRusso gives him a quick, inscrutable once-over before stepping inside, then, Johnny is gratified to hear, he breathes in a little gasp. “Wow,” he murmurs, “you’ve done a lot in here. It looks… finished.”</p><p>“I think you just damned me with faint praise, but I’ll take it. It’s finished.”</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that. It looks like a real home. Where did you get the sofa? This tv is huge! What did Mr Miyagi say when he saw it?” He’s gesturing with his hands now, and Johnny notes the staccato New Jersey accent that surfaces anytime Daniel gets enthusiastic about something.</p><p>He’s the same LaRusso, Johnny observes, but he’s more self-assured these days, more confident in his Northwest Imports trainee garb, the sport jacket and suit pants, styled hair and professional shoes. When Daniel comes in from work all fired up about floor planning and monthly OEM incentives… well, it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy to see him being <em>himself</em> again.</p><p>“Johnny?”</p><p>He drags himself back to reality. “Sensei approves. He helped me move everything in today. He even told me, ‘Your home is ready’. I think that’s his way of kicking me out of the house,” Johnny laughs.</p><p>LaRusso looks up at him with an unreadable expression. “So, no more sleeping on the futon,” he confirms. </p><p>“I’m still right here,” Johnny reminds him gently. </p><p>Daniel’s brown eyes are still locked to his as he steps one step closer, then two, finally resting a hand on the nape of Johnny’s neck. Johnny halves the remaining distance with a third step, and something about this moment feels heavy, weighted with significance. He intertwines the fingers of both hands into Daniel’s dark hair to pull him closer, nearly close enough to kiss, but not quite. He waits, carefully studying Daniel’s eyes.</p><p>Daniel is the one who closes the final distance between them, bringing their mouths together firmly and pressing the full length of his body against his own. After a few moments, they come up for breath.</p><p>“So we should break that in,” Daniel proposes. “Tonight.”</p><p>“Tonight?”</p><p> “Tonight,” Daniel confirms firmly.</p><p>“Holy shit,” Johnny breathes, his previous bravado forgotten. “I don’t know how. I haven’t-“</p><p>“Me either. Let’s figure it out.” He leans over and nips lightly at Johnny’s lower lip before focusing his attention on unbuttoning Johnny’s jeans.</p><p>Johnny’s grinning when he nips him back. “Feisty.” </p><p>Clearly warming to the role of initiator in this encounter, Daniel pulls Johnny’s t-shirt over his head and flings it across the room.</p><p>“Fucker.” Johnny peels Daniel’s sport coat from his slender shoulders and starts working on his shirt buttons. “An undershirt? Really?”</p><p>“Looks sharp,” Daniel retorts. “What’s the matter, something getting in your way?”</p><p>“Not anymore,” Johnny counters, ripping the rest of the shirt buttons off in his haste to remove it from his shoulders. </p><p>“That shirt cost me $30,” Daniel gripes, pushing Johnny roughly onto the sofabed’s mattress so he can peel his jeans the rest of his way down his hips. Johnny is erect and aching underneath his underwear when Daniel leans over the bed to palm him along his length.</p><p>Johnny arches and hisses. “Shit, LaRusso…”</p><p>Daniel pushes his own pants roughly down his legs, hastily strips off his undershirt and toes off his socks, and for the first time, Johnny gets a head-to-toe look at him, from tousled hair down to lean calves. He’s picked up some muscle weight now that he’s training again, and his skin has darkened to a golden olive in the summer sun. His face is clean-shaven today, and maybe that’s for his job, but Johnny thinks this might also be for him. </p><p>Wordlessly, Johnny seizes LaRusso’s hips and pulls him the rest of the way to the bed. Daniel pushes him onto his back and climbs alongside him to press their bodies together. Johnny hooks a leg over his hip and grinds their hips together for a moment, until Daniel interrupts his rhythm by threading a hand between them. This first direct touch nearly overwhelms him, and he moans into their mouths.</p><p>“Good?” LaRusso asks.</p><p>“Oh yeah,” he responds, and if he’s a little breathless, surely he can’t be blamed for it.</p><p>“Then let’s get these off,” he demands, and rolls Johnny’s briefs down his hips to his thighs. Johnny eagerly squirms them the rest of the way off, then thumbs underneath Daniel’s waistband. He pauses to look up at Daniel, questioning, asking permission.</p><p>“Johnny, yes. Please.”</p><p>Johnny leans up to mouth Daniel’s neck, earning a sharp intake of breath while he frees him from the last of his clothing. Daniel hooks an arm under one of his legs and presses against him. Johnny gasps and stares up at Daniel, and he too is harder than he’s ever been in his entire life. “You’re-“ Whatever he’s about to say is interrupted, forgotten, as Daniel <em>shifts</em> their bodies, and now his length is nestled, nudging, near Johnny’s entrance. His entire body jolts in an uneasy combination of desire and fear; this is all moving with the speed of a freight train that he feels powerless to stop.</p><p>“LaRusso-“</p><p>“Yeah?” and LaRusso is staring down at him, pupils blown wide in the California twilight, expression softer than he’s ever seen him, lower lip pinched between his sharp teeth. </p><p>Johnny’s heart lurches in his chest with want; he reaches a hand to cup Daniel’s face. “Okay,” Johnny breathes, and he means it. He’ll do anything for LaRusso when he’s looking at him that way. “Let me get the-“</p><p>He can feel they’re both trembling as he reaches over to the drawer in the little bedside table and, blindly, feels for a condom and one of the foil packets of lubricant. He presses the lube into Daniel’s hand while he himself tears open the condom and rolls it brusquely onto Daniel. In light of what they’re about to try, he’s suddenly intimidated, and when he tries to defuse his own tension with a little laugh, he sounds as nervous as he feels.</p><p>Daniel picks up on it. “Are you sure? We don’t have to-“</p><p>“Just don’t be shy with the lube,” he replies bravely, then he’s forced to grin when he sees the wide-eyed look on LaRusso’s face. He watches Daniel squeeze the slippery substance into his hand and hesitate before applying some to himself. Then, he reaches down with slicked fingers and traces Johnny’s entrance gently with the rest. Johnny gasps, his back involuntarily arches and he feels a hot flush spread across his chest. “Fuck,” he breathes.</p><p>Daniel is watching him, lips swollen and face flushed, as he presses a finger curiously, firmly, against him. “You’re so tight,” he says wonderingly. “How-“</p><p>Johnny lifts and slides himself closer, tighter, against Daniel, and reaches between them to guide him in. He pushes firmly until, after a sudden little breakthrough, he feels the first stinging, delicious stretch. Daniel inches the rest of the way home, slowly, with a shuddering groan of his own.</p><p>“OK, wait-“ Johnny is trying to relax into the pressure, controlling his breath to help him manage through the overwhelming physical and emotional fullness. He’s just about adjusted, accommodated, when Daniel looks up from where their bodies are joined to meet his eyes again. He still has an arm looped around one of Johnny’s legs in a tight grip. </p><p>“Are you all right?”</p><p>“Daniel,” he answers softly. Then, “Yes. Move.”</p><p>Tentatively, Daniel pulls back, then seats himself deeply with a long, slow stroke that forces a moan from them both. Johnny reaches up to pull Daniel close and join their mouths; Daniel strokes again until he bottoms out,  establishing a gentle rhythm that has them both grasping for each other and making involuntarily obscene noises. Daniel reaches down between them to encircle Johnny again, and although his ministrations are uneven and inexpert, Johnny wants to cry from the overload of sensation. He comes suddenly, shudderingly, and Daniel is right behind him.</p><p>They collapse against each other, and it takes several moments to return to earth and catch their breaths. For Johnny’s part, he’s feeling giddy and a little delirious; he can’t quite bring himself to believe this just happened, and he’s still processing the experience, how it felt, how good it was. “Damn, what got into you?” he finally laughs. They’re both a sticky mess, not that he minds.</p><p>Daniel rolls away from him to strip off the condom and drop it into the trash, then he’s grinning as he hooks a leg over Johnny’s thighs. “We broke it in all right.”</p><p>“You broke <em>me</em> in, LaRusso,” Johnny teases, “hold me.” And he does.</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny has been dreading this, the second appointment with Mr Owens after their first intense, draining discussion, but at the same time, he recognizes he probably needs an unbiased sounding board for some of what’s going on in his life and in his head these days. Just like the last time, he doesn’t need to wait long for Mr Owens to join him in the little counseling office.</p><p>“Johnny.”</p><p>“Nick.”</p><p>“How are things for you at home these days? Any trouble returning, getting reintegrated?”</p><p>“About that. I didn’t go home.”</p><p>“I see. Tell me about that.”</p><p>“Mr Miyagi came back from Japan a couple of days after our last appointment. He let me move into his guesthouse on the condition that I fix it up. Which I did. It’s pretty nice out there. Wood floors. Real bed. Comfy.”</p><p>“Comfy, eh? So, no more sharing the futon with LaRusso these days? He’s under his, uh, sensei’s care now?”</p><p>“Well. It’s complicated.”</p><p>“Complicated.”</p><p>“Nick, don’t do that. It pisses me off.” They stare at each other for a long moment; Johnny is the first to give in and break eye contact. “I’m not sleeping with him like that, for comfort, like before. I’m, uh, sleeping with him the other way now.”</p><p>For once, Mr Owens is speechless.</p><p>“You could ask me how I feel about that,” and he smiles, just a little.</p><p>“All right. How do you feel-“</p><p>“Fucking fantastic! We’re great. It’s great. But I wanted to talk to you about some things. If that’s ok.”</p><p>“That’s why we’re here.”</p><p>“Ok. I’m worried that I’m, somehow, taking advantage of him? It’s only been a month since what happened. I’ve tried not to push him, to slow things down. I let him lead. I wait for him to make the first move. And believe me, sometimes that’s not easy because – well. Anyway. What if I’m messing him up? How would I know if I was?”</p><p>Johnny stops rambling, focuses on Mr Owens, and realizes with a start that he’s <em>grinning</em> at him.</p><p>“Dude, are you laughing at me?” He’s starting to get pissed off again.</p><p>“No, Johnny, god no. I’m not laughing at you, not in the least. You’re doing fine. You’re not ‘messing him up’.”</p><p>It’s Johnny’s turn to be struck silent.</p><p>“Ask me how I know,” Nick invites.</p><p>“Ok, how do you-“</p><p>“Because of  what you’ve just told me, and how you talk about him. You’re so worried you’re going to hurt him that you can’t possibly hurt him. At least, no more than the risk of getting hurt we all accept when we enter into a romantic relationship with another human being.”</p><p><em>Romantic relationship</em>. Johnny blinks. He knows that’s what this thing is becoming, even if it didn’t start out that way, and it’s certainly how he feels, but this is the first time he’s really thought about how to label it. It’s all been rather seat-of-the-pants. “Ok. Uh, thank you. Really.”</p><p>“Johnny, are you ready to talk about you? As riveted as I am by your love life, we should talk about your future.”</p><p>Johnny wills himself to stop thinking about the other thing and focus on what Mr Owens is saying. “My future. I mean, I’m doing all right. If I keep it up, I might be able to take some classes in a year or two at the community college.”</p><p>“I think you can do better than landscaping work and vocational classes, Lawrence.”</p><p>Johnny flushes in anger. Isn’t he doing the best he can? Sid cut him off, so even if Johnny hadn’t fucked up in junior year, hasn’t taken his eye off the ball all through high school, had been a good boy and applied to a bunch of universities, he’d still be fucked, no athletic scholarship, no parental financial help, and no ability to get a needs-based scholarship because his mother is married to Sid, and Sid makes a fuckton of money, so he doesn’t qualify.</p><p>Mr Owens must see the expression on his face because he’s holding up both hands in an appeasing gesture. “Whoa, hear me out. I know you’re doing your best.”</p><p>“Yeah I’m doing my best.”</p><p>“All right,” he grants. “An opportunity has come to my attention, and I thought you might be interested. It might fit you.”</p><p>“An… opportunity?”</p><p>“The physical therapy program at USC is offering a scholarship and a work-study program that will cover most of the tuition. Johnny, your grades and SAT scores are good enough with the right recommendations.”</p><p>“Mr Owens, that’s… it’s great, that you thought about me. But, I didn’t do the recommendations thing before graduation. I don’t have any. I don’t have anyone to ask.”</p><p>“Actually, you have two – mine, and one from Dr Alvarez. Miranda happens to be on the board that chooses the scholarship recipients. You have a real shot at this. Do you want it badly enough to try?”</p><p>“Yes,” he says. Yes. He wants this.</p><p>Afterwards, when Johnny drives to Miyagi’s – <em>home</em>, he corrects himself, he’s driving <em>home</em> – his head is spinning. He has so much to tell LaRusso, and Miyagi, and he has a thick folder of application paperwork to complete as soon as he can.</p><p>…</p><p>In a palatial estate across town, two men are talking about what they’ve just learned through Jimmy, the very last of the old crew who’s still around.</p><p>“You’re telling me that Johnny Lawrence is training with Daniel LaRusso’s sensei?” the first, oldest man asks.</p><p>“They’re training together,” the younger man confirms. “And it gets better. You know what we did to Daniel.”</p><p>“I know what you did to him. And, of the three of you, one quit and disappeared, the other is doing hard time, and then there’s you. You can’t afford any more trouble than you already have. I told you not to bring that shit here. It’s beneath us.”</p><p>“Well, it took.”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘it took’. What ‘took’?”</p><p>“They’re living together. Seeing each other. I think they’re fucking.”</p><p>“Wait, who? Not the old man. LaRusso… and Lawrence?”</p><p>“Apparently.”</p><p>“Huh. That’s fucked up. Has LaRusso talked?”</p><p>“Doesn’t sound like it.”</p><p>“Are you sure he won’t?”</p><p>“…I don’t know. If he hasn’t already, why would he now?”</p><p>“Maybe we should pay him a visit, make sure he doesn’t. Do you know where we might find LaRusso alone?”</p><p>“Strangely enough, I do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Less than</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>His mentor greets him at the front door of the dealership. “What the fuck, kid,” he says when he gets a good look at his protege.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Test drive didn’t go well,” he replies flatly; he has no idea how he’s going to adequately explain any of this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well,” Steve asks him, “how’s the other guy look?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“About the same.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jesus Christ. Go home, kid, you’re gonna scare off the customers.”</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel comes home from work to find Johnny at Miyagi’s table, head bent over an intimidating stack of forms, writing intently and looking tense. “What are you working on there? They making you take your finals after all?” </p><p>Johnny gathers up most of the papers into a stack, and slams a notepad on top of the stack, blocking his view of the contents. “I’ll, uh, tell you later, when sensei is back.”</p><p>That’s weird. “Suspicious, Lawrence. But ok. Hey, where’s Mr Miyagi? I saw his truck is gone.”</p><p>“Yeah, he has an interview. He said he’d be home around six.”</p><p>“You’re kidding! That’s great! Where? What kind of job?” Daniel realizes he’s talking with his hands again; his mentor has suggested he work on calming down the big gestures because it makes some customers feel threatened or uncomfortable. He forces his arms to relax at his sides.</p><p>Johnny finally looks up at him. “You look weird when you’re trying not to talk with your hands, LaRusso. It’s just not you. He has an interview over at the high school, maintenance or groundskeeping, something like that. Mr Owens helped get him in the door.”</p><p>“That’s great,” Daniel enthuses. “Things are looking up!”</p><p>A mystifying smile spreads across Johnny’s face; that’s rare to see, and Daniel loves to see it when it happens. He feels a similar smile coming on himself as he thinks back over his own day; a week ahead of the usual training schedule, his mentor has suggested he handle a couple of prospects on his own, the next day on the floor. He called it his ‘solo flight’, and, best of all, if Daniel can land one of them, he gets the commission. <em>Game on</em>, he thinks. He’s ready to prove himself on the sales floor – <em>more</em> than ready.</p><p>“All right, LaRusso, guess it’s time to get our gis on,” Johnny tells him, and he doesn’t miss the sly maneuver he executes with the stack of paperwork, sliding it under a placemat. Daniel <em>burns</em> with curiosity.</p><p>While Daniel is changing, he hears the door open. He scrambles to finish and dashes into the living room to catch Miyagi. “Hey! I heard you got an interview at the school! What’s the job? How did it go?” This time, he manages to control his arm gestures. Miyagi is looking at him oddly.</p><p>“Daniel-san, this is good news. I start new job next week.”</p><p>“Wow! Congratulations!” His arms gesture wildly, of their own volition. <em>Damn it</em>.</p><p>Miyagi has spotted the unfamiliar stack of papers – the old man doesn’t miss anything. He lifts the spiral notepad and peers under it at the top sheet in the stack, then aims a pointed look at him. “Daniel-san, something to tell me?”</p><p>He chuffs. “Johnny was working on that, but he’s being secretive about it. He wouldn’t let me see. Says he’ll tell us when you get here? And you’re here-“</p><p>Miyagi hmms and, very uncharacteristically, smiles to himself. Daniel doesn’t see this because he’s left through the back door and is making a beeline for the guesthouse.</p><p>Johnny intercepts him before he reaches the sliding glass doors. “Bobby will be here any minute,” he says, and slaps Daniel lightly on the back. “Come on.”</p><p>“…ok.”</p><p>While they’re stretching, Johnny invites Bobby to stay for dinner, and Mr Miyagi quickly nods his head agreeably, seconding the invite. Daniel, surprised, raises an eyebrow at Johnny, who is studiously ignoring him. Bobby, also surprised, looks to Daniel to confirm he’s onboard with this sudden invitation. Daniel returns his look and, after an awkward moment, reinforces Johnny’s welcome. “That would be cool,” he tells Bobby. “We can hang out.”</p><p>“We’ll order pizza,” Johnny asserts.</p><p>Bobby still looks uncertain, but he agrees. “Sure, thanks, Johnny.”</p><p>…</p><p>Before Miyagi allows the pizza boxes to be opened, he fetches a large bottle of saki and 4 small cups. “Miyagi has announcement,” he announces as he pours a measure into each cup. He raises the cup, looking significantly at the three young men until the finally get the hint and raise their own. “To my new job!” he crows, and swallows the saki like he’s doing a shot.</p><p>Johnny grins and raises his own glass further. “To sensei!” he toasts, and drinks.</p><p>Daniel finds himself grinning at Bobby as they empty their own cups.</p><p>“My turn,” Daniel announces, and laughs when the other three turn to him in surprise. He splashes some saki into three cups, but stops at the fourth when Bobby puts a hand over the cop to block the pour. “I have to drive home tonight, he explains, “but I’m with you in spirit, man.” Daniel nods and continues, “I start selling on commission tomorrow!”</p><p>Miyagi and Johnny grin and drink. When Bobby looks confused, Johnny explains: “He’s been training in car sales over at that import place. It sounds like he’s ready for the big leagues now.” He gives Daniel one of those slow smiles that makes Daniel blush; Bobby looks over at Miyagi and rolls his eyes.</p><p>“All right, then,” Bobby says. “I have something good to share.” Johnny looks at him in surprise, then fills the same three cups again with a little nod to Bobby, who continues. “My acceptance to divinity school came through. My final grades were enough!”</p><p>Johnny and Daniel both drink. Miyagi looks confused, until Johnny explains. “He’s going to study to go into the ministry. For a church.” “Ah,” Miyagi nods and pats Bobby on the back as he drinks. “Very good!”</p><p>Then, Miyagi turns to Johnny. “Your turn, Johnny-san,” he directs, taking the bottle from Johnny and pouring the final measures. Daniel and Bobby both turn to Johnny in surprise.</p><p>Johnny blushes and looks around the table at all three of his companions. “It’s not definite yet,” he says, “but I’ll tell you anyway. I’m applying to USC. Mr Owens turned me on to an opportunity there; he says I should get it.”</p><p>Mr Miyagi drinks, and Bobby takes a congenial sip out of Johnny’s cup while Daniel is staring wonderingly at Johnny. “Holy shit,” Daniel breathes. “That’s great! What kind of opportunity?”</p><p>“Their physical therapy program offers a scholarship, and there’s a work study program. I should be able to afford it.” He looks and sounds hesitant, even a little embarrassed.</p><p>Daniel can’t resist the urge to embrace him. Instinctively, their lips meet, but then they catch themselves, laugh, and separate. Daniel throws back the remainder of his saki, then feels moved to lean towards Bobby for an impromptu side-hug. Miyagi does the same with Johnny, although less awkwardly, and he returns the old man’s hug warmly.</p><p>Bobby grins. “All right,” he tells the group, “let’s eat some of this pizza.”</p><p>Johnny leans over to murmur quietly in Daniel’s ear. “Will you help me with the application?”</p><p>“You know I will,” he  murmurs back, bumping his shoulders happily against Johnny’s.</p><p>It’s after 9 when Bobby takes off, and nearly 10 by the time Miyagi takes his leave of the two celebratory young men. “You both make me proud today,” he explains, and if he’s looking a little teary-eyed, neither of them would dare say a word. </p><p>When Daniel closes his door behind him, he turns to Johnny with a significant look. He has a good buzz on, and he’s feeling warm and brave under its influence. He’s also yearning painfully for Johnny after looking across the table at his clear blue eyes and flushed cheeks all evening. He’s thinking about how Johnny gazed up at him last night, and how it felt to bury himself in him. He’s working himself into nearly-unbearable arousal just <em>thinking</em> about him.</p><p>“Johnny,” he whispers, “let’s-“</p><p>“Yeah,” Johnny agrees, obviously on the same page.</p><p>As soon as they open the sliding glass door, Daniel pushes Johnny bodily into the guesthouse, running his hands along his broad back under his shirt. Johnny pulls off his own shirt, then Daniel’s, setting them marvelously skin-to-skin before he closes the slider behind him.</p><p>Daniel reaches down to feel Johnny’s hard length through his jeans and is gratified to feel Johnny groan and sag against him in response. “My turn to make you feel good,” he murmurs, slowly unfastening Johnny’s jeans and happily discovering he’s wearing nothing underneath. “Damn,” he breathes.</p><p>Johnny grins into his mouth and toes off his socks. “Easy access, LaRusso.”</p><p>“I like that,” he replies as he peels those jeans down his legs. He loves Johnny’s muscled thighs, covered with downy blond hair and tanned from working in the sun, and relishes the fact he can finally run his hands along them from the ankles all the way up to his slim hips. As soon as Johnny has stepped out of his jeans, now pooled on the floor, Daniel circles his girth with one hand – Johnny grips the back of his neck in response – and, with the other, gently cradles his balls. This startles Johnny into a laugh, quickly halted when Daniel starts stroking him in earnest.</p><p>“Let’s,” Johnny whispers, Daniel responds, “ok”, and they stumble their way together to the bed without breaking contact. Johnny reaches the bed first, scrambles to a seated position, and pulls Daniel on top of him, face-to-face, his still-clothed thighs straddling Johnny’s naked hips. They kiss deeply, then Johnny pulls him closer to start working his mouth along his neck to his shoulder, getting a good start on a love bite. Daniel breaks away just enough to pluck the lube out of the bedside table, squirt it liberally into his hand, then resume his stroking. Johnny closes his eyes, leans his head back, and gives himself over to him.</p><p>Daniel watches his slack, rapturous face in fascination. This Johnny – expressive, soft, laughing, careful, and so different from the Johnny he met last fall – is a daily revelation to him. He never knew anyone could feel this way about him.</p><p>“Johnny,” he murmurs. “I want-“</p><p>“Anything,” he answers, and opens his eyes to gaze back at Daniel in the dark.</p><p>“I want you to feel what I felt,” he breathes. “I want to feel you inside me.” His gut gives a happy lurch as he drops his eyes to Johnny’s rather impressive member, imagining how it will feel being on the receiving end, seeing Johnny move above him…</p><p>But Johnny has come to an abrupt halt. “LaRusso-“</p><p>His own ministrations falter to a stop. “Johnny, what?” Has he said something wrong?</p><p>“Are - are you sure you’re ready?” Johnny is holding his waist now, mortifyingly has pushed him back and away from him. Daniel feels his bodily rejection keenly.</p><p>“I won’t break. Don’t treat me like I’m broken.”</p><p>“Will it remind-“</p><p>“Fuck,” Daniel blurts, standing abruptly. “I don’t even remember most of that – I passed out.” But the intrusion of <em>that</em> night into tonight, into <em>their</em> night, knocks the wind out of him. The sting of Johnny’s physical rejection has tears prickling at his eyes, and the humiliation of this - that they’re talking about any of this <em>now</em> – curdles into anger.</p><p>Johnny’s still watching him carefully, as though he might break down, lose his shit again, like he’s <em>weak</em>. It infuriates him.</p><p>“You and I are the only people in this room,” he almost shouts. “No one else. I don’t want this bullshit in here with us!”</p><p>Johnny’s standing now. “Hold on, I didn’t mean-“</p><p>Daniel furiously wipes his hand on his jeans and snatches up his shirt. “You said you didn’t see me any differently, but you do, you fucking do. The way you’re looking at me right now-“</p><p>“Goddamnit, LaRusso, that’s not true-“</p><p>But he’s already stalking towards the exit. He catches one last view of Johnny still standing by the bed, his expression broadcasting shock and confusion, before he slides the door closed, hard, behind him.</p><p>…</p><p>They meet awkwardly in the kitchen the next morning. Johnny, unshaven and in his landscaping work clothes, with his brewed coffee already in hand, is making himself a sandwich for lunch. Daniel is sharply dressed in his favorite sportcoat and dark slacks, stirring cream and sugar into his instant Folgers with laser focus. Miyagi watches them suspiciously from his customary seat at the dining table, looking a little worse for wear after his own celebratory evening.</p><p>There’s a silent conversation happening between the two younger men, but it’s not a pleasant one. Johnny throws a hurt glance towards Daniel, who studiously ignores his gaze, mouth angry and tight. Johnny ventures an overture to both that’s really aimed at eliciting some kind of response from LaRusso: “I was thinking about making chicken soup tonight-“</p><p>“Suit yourself,” Daniel responds under his breath, still focused on the swirl of his coffee.</p><p>Miyagi slams his empty teacup onto the table, and both of them startle before turning to stare at him. “Go somewhere else, talk, fight,” he scolds. “Not in my kitchen!” He points his teaspoon at them threateningly.</p><p>Daniel is suddenly a little ashamed that they’ve inflicted this, whatever it is, on his sensei. He yields to Miyagi’s order and stalks to the door to the yard, still avoiding Johnny’s gaze. Johnny, looking resigned, follows him at a safe remove, closing the door gently behind him.</p><p>When they both reach the other side of the workshop, Daniel pivots on one heel, turns and faces Johnny. He can feel his jaw clenching, and he’s flushing with an uncomfortable mixture of anger, embarrassment, and humiliation left over from the night before. “What,” he demands, “I have to go to work.”</p><p>Johnny aims a steely gaze at him, suddenly less conciliatory than he had been in the kitchen. “Why are you so pissed off at me?”</p><p>“You turned me down,” he retorts.</p><p>“When you didn’t get what you wanted from me, you walked out, LaRusso. Don’t make this about me.”</p><p>“It’s about you, Johnny. What the fuck, if you don’t want me-“ Daniel feels his voice rising.</p><p>“I want you, asshole,” Johnny shouts, finally losing his temper. He takes a step towards Daniel and shoves him, hard, in the shoulders, until Daniel feels the workshop wall pressing against his back. “I will fuck you six ways from Sunday every goddamned day of the week if you want me to.”</p><p>“Then what,” Daniel growls, and he shoves back just as hard.</p><p>“I fucked up, all right?” Johnny growls back. He’s fallen back a pace, and Daniel sees he’s trying to take deep, calming breaths, probably in an attempt to de-escalate and regain control of his temper. “I know you’re not broken. I never thought you were broken.”</p><p>Daniel, a little out of breath himself, finds himself fixated on Johnny’s face - studying his eyes, his mouth. He doesn’t look angry, or disgusted, or concerned, or pitying, he realizes – he looks <em>devastated</em>.</p><p>“If I was too careful, it’s… Jesus, Daniel, it’s out of love. How do you think I feel, when we just-“ he breaks off, folds his arms tightly around himself, and avoids Daniel’s gaze. “This is new to me, too.”</p><p>Daniel’s gut tightens with regret – he’s been such a jerk, again; hurtful, temperamental, defensive. He steps tentatively closer to Johnny. “Johnny, I’m sorry.” He takes another step, close enough to put a hand on each of Johnny’s shoulders. “I felt rejected and, I guess, embarrassed. I handled it really badly. I shouldn’t have walked out.”</p><p>Johnny’s still not looking at him when he responds. “I should have trusted you to know what you want.”</p><p>Daniel closes the final distance between them and folds him into his arms. Johnny’s body is stiff, but after a moment, he relaxes and embraces him back. </p><p>“Six ways from Sunday, huh?” he teases gently.</p><p>“Every day of the week,” Johnny confirms.</p><p>It’s only as he’s pulling into the dealership that Daniel recognizes the other thing Johnny had told him. He sits with that for a moment, alone in his car in the dealership parking lot, and his heart feels like it’s going to burst.</p><p>…</p><p>After a handful of customer interactions and a couple of test drives, Daniel is feeling pretty good about how he’s doing on the floor, and he’s getting positive feedback from his mentor. Towards the end of his day, he intercepts a walk-in customer who’s been walking around one of the BMW 7-series with interest and introduces himself, card in hand. </p><p>“Nice to meet you,” and here the customer studies his card, “Daniel LaRusso.”</p><p>“Good to meet you too! Please, call me Daniel! Are you interested in the 728i? Notice you’re looking at it pretty closely there.”</p><p>“Yeah, I am. Have been looking for one of these, in this color. Oh, call me Terry. Tell me about this one. Can we drive it?”</p><p>He’s tall, Daniel notes, has an athletic look about him, looks respectable, dresses well. If he’s a tire kicker, he at least looks like a financially-qualified one. “Of course! I do have to ask you to see the lady behind the desk there – she needs a copy of your driver’s license. Just the rules – I’ll go get the keys.”</p><p>“Wonderful, Daniel,” the man grins.</p><p>They’ve walked around the 728i, talked specs, admired the leather interior, and discussed the remaining warranty. He feels like he’s establishing a decent rapport with this guy. They are finally in the car, Terry at the wheel, merging onto the 101 to ‘check out the acceleration’.</p><p>“So, Terry, what do you do for a living?”</p><p>“Funny you should ask. You could say I’m a teacher. I run a karate dojo.”</p><p>“Oh really,” and for the first time, Daniel feels a little twist of unease. “Which one?”</p><p>“Maybe you’ve heard of it,” Terry replies, looks over at him, and grins broadly. “It’s called Cobra Kai.”</p><p>Daniel is stunned into a brief silence. “I’m, uh, familiar with it,” he finally says. </p><p>Terry is still looking at him and grinning, and he’s still accelerating, approaching three digits on the speedometer, forcing him to swerve to avoid other cars. “I thought you might be.”</p><p>“What do you want,” Daniel demands, and although he’s terrified, he manages to sound firm, at least to his own ears.</p><p>“Just checking on you, Danny. Seeing how you’re holding up. Fully recovered, all that.”</p><p>Daniel’s fear is quickly turning into anger, but he keeps his voice even. “Pull over. Stop the car.”</p><p>“I’m not finished!” Terry screams, and Daniel shrinks away from him, against the opposite door.</p><p>”What the fuck do you want?” Daniel shouts back.</p><p>“How’s Lawrence these days? Does he like how my boys broke you in?”</p><p>He sees red; maybe it’s the disgusting implications of his words, or the sound of Johnny’s name on the man’s lips, or the fact he knows what his students did and is here to somehow reinforce the act, but he abruptly loses his last vestige of emotional control and punches Terry in the jaw.</p><p>The car swerves nauseatingly, and Daniel loses his seating and drops his guard just long enough for Terry to punch him back. “Shit,” he spits, and they glare at each other warily.</p><p>“Didn’t expect you to strike first,” Terry comments. He’s regained control of the car and is cruising smoothly towards the right lane as though all of this is normal. “What would Miyagi say? Should I go tell him?”</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>Terry takes the next exit, pulls into a gas station parking lot, and comes to to a stop abruptly enough that Daniel’s seatbelt locks up. Terry has already unsnapped his own seatbelt and grabbed him tightly by the collar. “Listen up, fuckboy,” he snarls. “You don’t talk to the police. You don’t talk to anyone, or I’ll send my boys over for another visit-“</p><p>Daniel wedges a knee up between them and shoves Terry off of him while he unfastens his own seatbelt. “I didn’t fucking talk.” He kicks the man against the car door Terry was already in the process of opening; Daniel triumphantly watches him fall gracelessly out of the car. </p><p>He’s sliding over to the driver’s seat and reaching for the door handle when Terry hits him again, this time square in the mouth. He grabs the door handle and slams the door hard on Terry’s arm once, twice, until Terry finally stumbles back. He closes the door and stomps on the gas, accelerating rapidly on a swerving course towards the street. In his rearview mirror, Terry is laughing wildly.</p><p>His mentor greets him at the front door of the dealership. “What the fuck, kid,” he says when he gets a good look at his protege.</p><p>“Test drive didn’t go well,” he replies flatly; he has no idea how he’s going to adequately explain any of this. </p><p>“Well,” Steve asks him, “how’s the other guy look?”</p><p>“About the same.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ. Go home, kid, you’re gonna scare off the customers. Come back tomorrow, 8am sharp. We’re gonna talk about this.”</p><p><em>Shit</em>. “I’m sorry, Steve.” But Steve just shakes his head.</p><p>When Daniel drops the BMW’s keys by the front desk, he asks for, and is given, the copy of Terry Silver’s California driver’s license. It’s only on his drive home that the adrenaline wears off and he starts shaking.</p><p>It’s ten after six by the time he pulls up in Miyagi’s courtyard and parks next to Bobby’s Datsun. His post-confrontation shakes have subsided, leaving behind a mixture of frustration and anger. Why did Terry turn up now, weeks later? It doesn’t make sense. Will this be the last encounter, or will there be more intimidation attempts to look forward to? Could Johnny or Mr Miyagi be a target? Miyagi doesn’t even know who ‘the fight’ was with, he realizes. For all his sensei knows, he was mugged by strangers. Is Daniel’s own obfuscation of the truth putting the older man at risk?</p><p>He knows it’s no use trying to avoid the guys, it would just put off the inevitable, so he enters through the gate into the backyard as he normally would. Mr Miyagi, Bobby and Johnny are already into their katas; he gives them a cheeky little wave as he hastily makes for the house.</p><p>Johnny and Miyagi are on his heels before he can reach the safety of his bedroom door.</p><p>“LaRusso, what the hell,” Johnny has hold of his jaw, is checking out the rapidly developing black eye and thumbing his bloody lip.</p><p>“Ouch,” he flinches. “Johnny, what do you know about Terry Silver?”</p><p>Johnny stares at him, his face pale. “Terry…?”</p><p>“Because he came to my work, posed as a customer, wanted to go for a test drive. Said some nasty things. Threatened me if I told.”</p><p>“Told what, Daniel-san,” Miyagi interjects.</p><p>“I never met him, but I’ve heard some things,” Johnny replies. “LaRusso, you’re all right?”</p><p>“I’m all right,” he confirms firmly. “I mean, I’m probably going to get fired, but other than that, I’m fine.”</p><p>Johnny is standing in the hallway, his mouth set in a firm line as Daniel closes his bedroom door. </p><p>…</p><p>Miyagi fixes his stare on Johnny. “What is this about?” he demands.</p><p>Johnny waits until LaRusso’s door closes, then he pats Miyagi on the back. “Hang on, I need to get something,” he says mildly, and heads to the guesthouse, where he changes out of his gi into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He tucks his wallet into his back pocket and picks up his keys. Casually, he walks towards his car. Inside, he’s <em>raging</em>.</p><p>“Johnny,” Bobby stops him. “What happened? Where are you going?”</p><p>“Terry Silver happened. I’m going to Cobra Kai.”</p><p>“That’s a uniquely bad idea,” Bobby informs him. </p><p>“I know. You in?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. A warm place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adrift, Daniel looks to Miyagi for some kind of guidance.</p><p>“For man with no forgiveness in heart, life worse punishment than death.” These are the same words he used when Daniel asked him why he didn’t kill Kreese in the parking lot the night of the tournament. But then, Miyagi wasn’t the victim, was he? It wasn’t his right to forgive.</p><p>“I’m not sure I can do that,” Daniel tells him.</p><p>“One day.” Miyagi pats him gently on the back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Miyagi doesn’t figure out Johnny and Bobby are gone until Daniel emerges from the hallway bathroom, face washed, knuckles bandaged and wearing street clothes, and asks where Johnny went.</p><p>“Daniel-san, what is this about?”</p><p>Daniel’s heart sinks, because he knows exactly where Johnny went, and why, and has an idea what he intends to do once he gets there. The Datsun is still sitting in the drive, and Daniel finds he’s both relieved Johnny isn’t alone, and concerned about whether Bobby has any idea what he’s getting himself into.</p><p>But now, the clock is ticking. He has to get to Cobra Kai, quickly.</p><p>He also needs to level with Miyagi now – his sensei deserves some explanation for the current chaos and some awareness that he may also be, or may become, a target if Terry Silver escalates the harassment. It still doesn’t make sense, though. It’s been weeks, he didn’t talk, and didn’t intend to talk. Why now?</p><p>He admits to his sensei, “They went to Cobra Kai. Mr Miyagi, I have to leave right now.”</p><p>“Why Cobra Kai?”</p><p>“I’ll tell you on the way,” he assures his sensei, because he already knows he won’t be able to convince Miyagi to stay behind.</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny opens the familiar Cobra Kai door and immediately understands he’s entered a trap; there are three men already inside, waiting for him, in the sort of intentionally-relaxed posture that conceals readiness for a fight. His heart pounds with adrenaline and his vision tunnels, focusing his full attention on the men; he doesn’t hear whatever it is Bobby, somewhere behind him, is trying to tell him.</p><p>Just the smell of the  dojo – the bleach-wiped plastic mats, the dusty HVAC vents, the locker-room smell inherent to any gathering place for groups of young men - carries so many memories for him, most of them good: sensei Kreese leading a roomful of young men through an exercise; the feeling of being called to the front himself to lead; the warm camaraderie of friendship, of being part of something greater than himself. How it felt to win, to be on top, to score that final point against a weaker opponent. The rush of striking first and finishing the match without mercy. This was his home for so many years.</p><p>“Johnny Lawrence,”  the oldest of the three greets him with false joviality. “We finally meet face to face.”</p><p>He’s gratified to see the man has a bruised face – it looks like Daniel gave about as good as he got in today’s encounter, at least – but the other two are unmarked.</p><p>“Who the fuck are you,” he answers.</p><p>“You know who I am,” he replies, walking towards Johnny. They meet in the center of the room, separated by a pace, and stop. Johnny is having trouble focusing – along with the rush of memories brought to the forefront of his mind by the dojo itself, he looks at Terry Silver and mentally replays Daniel coming home from work with hard eyes and a split lip, worried about getting fired from the job he loves. The memory of Daniel after the attack, when he first found him, before graduation. Daniel vomiting in Miyagi’s backyard.</p><p>“He took a chunk out of you,” Johnny observes flatly. </p><p>“Yeah, feisty little guy,” he smirks. “I can almost see the appeal.”</p><p>Johnny strikes first, without finesse or form. He makes contact but it’s weak because if Terry Silver knows anything, it’s how to block a punch, and as Terry is swinging in retaliation, Snake and the second guy move in.</p><p>…</p><p>Miyagi and Daniel drive into the parking lot, and Daniel spots Johnny’s car parked haphazardly near the front door of the shitty strip-mall storefront they call a dojo. Even seeing the vinyl logo on the glass brings back unpleasant associations; he remembers how his heart sank when a younger, meaner Johnny caught sight of him with a sneer; remembers Johnny’s gang running him off a hillside, beating him up in the locker room, and of course the coordinated, merciless attack at the tournament. Johnny was everything Daniel could never be with his dark skin, small stature, and working-class Jersey accent. There was so much neither of them understood back then. </p><p>Now, he takes a deep, shuddering breath, allows his fear to pass over and through him until only calm resolve remains. He looks at Miyagi, who returns his gaze with a reassuring, level nod.</p><p>“Thank you, sensei,” he tells him genuinely.</p><p>“I am with you, Daniel-san,” the old man replies.</p><p>They leave the safety of Miyagi’s little pickup truck and walk together towards the door.</p><p>Inside, there’s a pitched battle happening on the mats; Johnny and Terry are grappling desperately on the floor while two younger men are working Bobby over; one has him in a chokehold while the other punches him in the stomach.</p><p>Daniel is momentarily transfixed at the door, torn between his desire to run to Johnny’s side, and the obvious need to help Bobby free himself from his predicament – but then Snake, the one holding Bobby by the throat, catches sight of him at the same time he in turn recognizes Snake. </p><p>“Came back for more?” he taunts.</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>“Came back for more?” </em>
</p><p>The words shock Johnny into looking up, away from Silver, and he’s horrified to see Daniel in the dojo.</p><p>Terry <em>laughs</em>. “Oh, this is rich!”</p><p>Daniel is frozen in the entryway for a moment, but then, eyes black with intent, he launches himself at the trio, focused solely on Snake. He grabs him by the hair and hooks one leg behind his knees, unbalancing him enough to loosen his grip on Bobby and land Snake, winded, on the floor. Bobby, no slouch himself, goes after the other one who had been punching him in the stomach.</p><p>Then, Johnny’s attention is forced back to Terry, who is rolling away and getting to his feet. Johnny scrambles to do the same, and they face off again, wary and breathing heavily.</p><p>“You like how Dutch softened him up for you?” he spits.</p><p>“Three on one like fucking cowards,” Johnny growls back. “We used to value honor in this dojo.” But as he says it, he realizes it’s not true, was never true. He, Johnny, valued honor even though he fell short. Kreese only valued winning. Kreese would have had no objection to three on one, nor would he have been concerned for the welfare of his opponent.</p><p>“Oh, ‘we’ now?” Terry taunts Johnny. “Quitter. Loser. You destroyed this dojo-“</p><p>Daniel, meanwhile, is doing his best to punch <em>through</em> Snake’s head into the floor with his fists, his full bodyweight concentrated to the one knee planted on the guy’s chest, and there’s no karate in evidence here, just straight brutality. He’s punctuating each blow with a staccato word: “Not – so – tough – now – without – your - crew –“</p><p>“You can thank Kreese for destroying Cobra Kai,” Johnny shouts.</p><p>“You destroyed Kreese,” Terry counters, and now he’s not looking at Johnny; he’s looking at Miyagi, who is hurrying over to where Daniel is doing his level best to kill Snake.</p><p>…</p><p>Daniel’s ears are ringing with an uneven rage-driven whine and he doesn’t register anything else in the room except Snake. He remembers him well enough, now – this is the one who held him up by the hair under the boardwalk while Dutch kicked his legs out from under him, the one who held his wrists and laughed while Dutch assaulted him. He’s blinded by rage and hurt, guiding his blows only by muscle memory, now. Snake has stopped fighting back –</p><p>“Daniel-san, enough!” Miyagi’s barked order brings him up short. He sits his knees, on the floor next to Snake’s prone body, out of breath with thoughts fogged by adrenaline and fury.</p><p>Miyagi checks the pulse of the bloodied young man on the floor, nods once briskly. “Ok.”</p><p>Daniel’s vision clears, and he’s left with a mixture of vicious satisfaction at the damage he’s inflicted, and shame at his complete loss of control. Everyone in the room has stopped to look at the three of them where they sit on the floor.</p><p>Adrift, he looks to Miyagi for some kind of guidance.</p><p>“For man with no forgiveness in heart, life worse punishment than death.” These are the same words he used when Daniel asked him why he didn’t kill Kreese in the parking lot the night of the tournament. But then, Miyagi wasn’t the victim, was he? It wasn’t his right to forgive.</p><p>“I’m not sure I can do that,” Daniel tells him.</p><p>“One day.” Miyagi pats him gently on the back.</p><p>Terry has shifted his focus to Miyagi, and approaches him wearing the sneering grin that makes Daniel instinctively want to punch him, again. Miyagi stands, his eyes on Terry. Johnny is watching both of them, looking for some opening to bring Terry down once and for all.</p><p>“Why?” Daniel asks him, still on his knees. “I didn’t report what they did, I didn’t retaliate, I didn’t come here. Why did you come to my work and threaten me?”</p><p>“You know, Daniel, maybe I was just curious. I’d heard so much about you both. When my boys broke you in on the beach, I didn’t approve, but, boys will be boys. Then I heard you couldn’t get enough and went to Lawrence here for more. I had to see that shit for myself-“</p><p>“That’s not how it works, you <em>fucking</em> moron,” and Daniel actually <em>laughs</em> because Terry Silver, the big bad guy in this scenario, is so obviously stupid. He’s like a villain in a Scooby Doo episode – ridiculous, laughable.</p><p>“Whatever you say, fuckboy-“</p><p>Miyagi has circled to Terry’s side, and chooses this moment, when Terry is formulating his less-than-creative rejoinder, to kick his knees out from under him and flip him into the ground, landing flat on his back. Terry lays stunned with the breath knocked out of him. It’s all very anticlimactic, and Johnny nods at Miyagi in appreciation for this simple, effective takedown. </p><p>Daniel looks around and realizes that the third guy made a quiet exit through the back door at some point after Miyagi checked Snake’s pulse. </p><p>“We should probably split,” Bobby, always the practical one, suggests.</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny and Daniel retreat to the guesthouse and sag, together, onto the unmade sofabed. Johnny studies him at close range, thumbs his bruised mouth – he moans quietly, without pleasure – and looks into his pitch-dark eyes. Wordlessly, LaRusso reaches out to embrace him; Johnny tucks his dark head under his chin and hooks a leg over his thighs. He’s sorely missed this in the weeks since Miyagi came back from Okinawa, and has no intention of relinquishing Daniel to his own bed in Miyagi’s house, not tonight. </p><p>With Johnny, in the quiet dark, Daniel finally feels safe enough to let go of the emotional toughness he has maintained through the day. “Today was hard,” he murmurs, and his breath hitches. </p><p>“I know,” Johnny replies, stroking his hair.</p><p>…</p><p>Friday morning, Daniel wakes before Johnny to tiptoe back into the main house to get ready for his 8am meeting with Steve. He takes extra time on his appearance, mentally rehearsing what he’s going to say as he puts on his last unsoiled button-up – after yesterday’s test-drive melee and Johnny’s button-tearing from earlier in the week, his wardrobe is getting thin – and picks out on his best suit. If he’s going to get fired, he’s at least going to look sharp doing it. Today, he’ll take all the control and agency he can get. </p><p>Miyagi greets him in the kitchen – this is his own last day of leisure before he starts his new maintenance job at the high school. “Daniel-san, look good,” he compliments, even patting him on his suited shoulder. </p><p>“Thanks, Mr Miyagi. I may not be gone long,” he says ruefully, holding a bag of frozen peas to the side of his face in a final attempt to minimize the swelling. It will still be obvious he’s been in a fight, of course, but he can only do the best he can.</p><p>“No matter – it will be ok. Other jobs.”</p><p>Fair point.</p><p>He arrives at Northwest Import Sales ten minutes early and does his best to look confident and calm walking into Steve’s sales office, even though he feels anything but. He’s put so much energy and enthusiasm into his training, and feels so strongly that he can do well in the business, that the prospect of losing this job and having to start all over again somewhere else is daunting. He only needs to wait for a few minutes before Steve and the GM enter the office and close the glass door behind them. Daniel stands; both motion for him to sit, then Steve sits behind the desk, and the GM sits in the second chair next to Daniel. Both look grave.</p><p>“I had the shop check over the car,” Steve tells them both. “No damage.”</p><p>The general manager nods. “That’s good,” he acknowledges, looking at Steve, “but my larger concerns are legal exposure and maintaining good standing with our insurer. Losing a lawsuit could put us out of business.” He turns to Daniel. “Do we need to be concerned about a lawsuit from this customer, Daniel?”</p><p>He has to reply honestly. “I have no idea.”</p><p>They look at each other, then Steve looks at him directly in the eyes. “Tell us what happened, step by step.”</p><p>He thinks back to yesterday. “I had never met him before – he was out on the lot, looking at that car specifically, so we talked about it, you know, built a rapport.” Here, he looks at Steve. “He asked to test drive it. He seemed… normal, like a pretty nice guy. Well dressed, professional. But, as soon as we got it out onto the highway, I asked him what he did for a living. He told me he runs a rival karate dojo, then he floored it.”</p><p>“A rival karate dojo.”</p><p>It sounds stupid, even to himself. “I know how it sounds. He took over after, well, after I was, uh, out of the karate scene. That’s a long story – uh. He had a grudge against me.”</p><p>“But you didn’t know who he was?”</p><p>“I didn’t. I never met him, didn’t even know his name. But he knew who I was. I asked him what he wanted, and he said he was checking up on me after – well, several weeks ago, three of his guys jumped me and put me in the hospital. He threatened to send them after me again if I reported it.”</p><p>“This happened weeks ago?”</p><p>“Yeah. I asked him to pull over and stop, and he freaked out. He said something… offensive. I lost my temper and punched him. It was bad judgment. Dangerous. I would understand if you fired me for that.”</p><p>“What did he say to you that was so offensive?”</p><p>“I’d rather not say.” On this, Daniel is firm; this is a boundary he needs to hold. “He pulled off at Winetka, at the gas station, and we fought until I was able to push him out of the car.”</p><p>The two men look at each other. “All right, Daniel,” the general manager finally tells him. “We’ll discuss and call you with our decision.”</p><p>“Ok,” Daniel stands and initiates a handshake with each of them, then says what he’d mentally rehearsed that morning. “I just want you to know, no matter what you decide, I really liked working for you. I think I can do well in this business. Steve, I learned a lot from you. Thank you.” He forces himself to hold his head high as he walks off the sales floor and into his car.</p><p>…</p><p>After the young man has left the floor, Steve speaks first. “Joe, his story lines up with what I saw here. It didn’t look to me like he knew the guy. And it matches what the guy at the gas station said when he called me.”</p><p>Joe shook his head. “He punched a customer who was driving one of our cars on the highway. Steve, that was bad judgment. Never mind the car. He could have killed someone.”</p><p>Steve sighs. “He seems like a good kid,” he says. “Always on time, pays attention. Smart. Eager. Customers like him.”</p><p>Joe nods. “Except this one.  I’ll talk to our counsel and let you know.”</p><p>“All right, Joe.”</p><p>…</p><p>Daniel is home before nine; when Miyagi asks him how it went, he can only shrug. “They’ll call me with their decision,” he says. Johnny’s already off to work; there’s nothing to be done other than wait.</p><p>It’s almost four before the phone rings.</p><p>“Good news, Daniel,” Steve tells him. “We’d like for you to come back. Thinking Monday, if you’re looking good enough not to scare off our customers by then.”</p><p>“Thank you! Oh my god, I’m so relieved!” Daniel enthuses.</p><p>“Expect some extra supervision for a while,” Steve continues. “We’re taking a chance on you, kid. Don’t blow it.”</p><p>“You got it! I’ll see you Monday! Thank you Steve, tell Joe I said thank you, ok?”</p><p>“All right, kid. Have a better weekend.”</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny pulls into the drive at 6 and finds Miyagi, Bobby, and Daniel at the dining table, spooning Chinese takeout onto plates. Instead of saki, though, Bobby has distributed bottles of Coors beer.</p><p>“What’s this? A party?” Johnny asks. Clearly, training has been cancelled.</p><p>“It’s a victory celebration with an added bonus,” Bobby confirms.</p><p>“I’m not fired!” Daniel announces, grinning.</p><p>“I am so happy for you,” Johnny makes his way over to Daniel and gives him a side-hug. “I’m filthy. Let me clean up, I’ll be back in a few.”</p><p>While he’s changing, Daniel screws up his courage and asks Bobby a question that’s been bothering him since the day before: “Bobby, Dutch wasn’t there. Why?”</p><p>“Johnny didn’t tell you,” he replies uncomfortably. “Maybe he was trying to – shit.”</p><p>“Bobby, it’s ok. What.”</p><p>“He’s in prison for a long time.”</p><p>Daniel is nonplussed; he and Miyagi make brief eye contact. “Ok,” he finally says. It really is done, then. The closure, such as it is, is relief accompanied with a surge of exhaustion. It’s all been so fucking hard. “Let’s crack open these beers, huh?”</p><p>Miyagi removes the cap from his, takes a drink and wrinkles his nose.</p><p>“Hey, if it’s good enough for Mark Harmon, it’s good enough for us,” Johnny chides as he slips through the open back door.</p><p>“That was quick.” While Bobby is handing out plates and chopsticks, Daniel studies Johnny as he takes his now-usual seat between him and Bobby. His color is high after a full day outdoors, and his hair is wet from the shower. He smells like evergreen, maybe from his shampoo, and fabric softener, and something spicy underneath. Under the table, Daniel presses his thigh firmly against Johnny’s. </p><p>Johnny turns to study him more closely. “How’s this feeling today,” he asks, gently touching his shiner. His eyes, direct blue pools, make Daniel melt and blush.</p><p>“The day after is always the worst,” he replies, “but it’s ok. It should look better Monday. I hope.”</p><p>There’s an awkwardness around the table, an undercurrent of too much unacknowledged, as they eat. For his part, Daniel feels like he’s starving, having eaten nothing since lunch the day before, too nervous to eat anything today while he waited for Steve’s call. Johnny is always starving after a full day of outdoor labor, no matter the circumstances. The beer he’s consumed on an empty stomach, combined with fatigue, is perhaps hitting him harder than it should – and he’s a lightweight under the best of circumstances – so this may contribute to what he says next to the table.</p><p>“Thank you for going to Cobra Kai to face those guys,” he says, and it’s the most open acknowledgement he’s made of any of it since it all started. “Thanks for having my back.”</p><p>Bobby looks down at the table, unsure whether or how to acknowledge the situation that brought them together. Miyagi bows his head, although there’s a sense of regret in this expression as he does. Daniel suspects his sensei is having trouble reconciling this vengeful series of events with his personal philosophy. Johnny leans over to touch his lips to Daniel’s ear to whisper, “You were <em>badass</em>,” and that makes Daniel snort, in turn prompting a disapproving look from Miyagi.</p><p>Johnny is just starting his second beer; under the table, he rests a hand on Daniel’s upper thigh.</p><p>Daniel presses the length of his shin to Johnny’s calf, intertwining their ankles.</p><p>Johnny squeezes his thigh, and Daniel sucks in a little breath.</p><p>Daniel reaches down to lace his fingers with Johnny’s.</p><p>Johnny leans firmly into Daniel’s shoulder.</p><p>Daniel turns and studies Johnny’s profile.</p><p>Johnny looks over at Bobby, avoiding Miyagi’s suspicious squint. “We need to go-“</p><p>Daniel continues his sentence weakly. “-check on the guesthouse and, uh,”</p><p>Johnny completes the excuse: “-make sure the coffeemaker’s off.”</p><p>Bobby rolls his eyes. “I’m out,” he announces. “See you Sunday.”</p><p>Miyagi is left at the table, alone, as his young students make their escapes through the rear sliding doors. “All right,” he says to himself, opening the last Coors. He consoles himself with the thought that at least no one’s going to get knocked up on <em>his</em> watch.</p><p>…</p><p>In Johnny’s guesthouse, they feverishly strip off eachothers’ clothes until they face each other naked, and really it’s for the the first time. “You’re-“ Johnny tells him, staring. “Yeah,” LaRusso murmurs, surveying Johnny from his cornsilk hair to his powerful calves. Johnny pulls him close, presses their bodies together, and delves into LaRusso’s mouth with his tongue. LaRusso melts gratifyingly against him and they stumble once again to the sofabed, now neatly made.</p><p>“Did you do this for me?” LaRusso whispers.</p><p> Johnny hums noncommittally and gently pushes him onto the bed, climbs on next to him, and starts nibbling on his earlobe and the tender skin beneath it, prompting Daniel to giggle ticklishly.</p><p>“You are so fucking hot,” Johnny breathes into his ear.</p><p>Daniel presses his hips against Johnny’s and hooks one of his heels up against his ass to pull him in closer, harder. Johnny drives a long, slow stroke into the crease of LaRusso’s hip, fisting a hand in the dark crown of his hair, garnering an under-the-breath response: “fuck, Johnny”. He presses on, pushing Daniel’s head to one side, a little roughly, while he tenderly mouths his neck. </p><p>LaRusso utters a soft whine, closes his eyes and raises his own hips off the bed to meet Johnny halfway. Johnny leans in to murmur into Daniel’s ear, “I want to fuck you until you beg.” “Please,” Daniel begs softly.</p><p>Johnny reaches for the lube – he’s finally bought the full-size – and a condom with one hand, still pressing Daniel’s face to the mattress with the other. He starts with lube on his fingers, stroking his achingly hard length with it, then reaching between the cleft of his ass to press against his entrance. “Yeah?” he breathes. “Yes,” the response. He presses in one finger and then two, slowly, and Daniel is squirming under him, uttering little sounds that make Johnny’s heart race. He releases LaRusso’s head and withdraws his fingers so that he can tear open the condom’s wrapper.</p><p>LaRusso threads both hands into Johnny’s hair and gazes up at him with a longing nearly unbearable for Johnny to witness. Johnny grasps his hips, pivots him firmly onto his side, and positions his own body alongside and behind him. Wrapping one arm around Daniel’s chest, he uses the other to guide himself to his entrance. Slowly, surely, he pushes in, and Daniel arches against him with a moan.</p><p>“Daniel,” he whispers, “can I-“</p><p>“Fuck yes,” Daniel murmurs.</p><p>Johnny establishes a slow, deep rhythm, discovering an angle that reaches a spot that makes Daniel cry out hoarsely with every stroke. He goes with that approach, holding Daniel’s lithe body firmly to his chest and burying his face into his hair, until Daniel stiffens, gasps, and comes explosively. His own pace accelerates, his thrusts sharp and deep, until, finally, he climaxes too.</p><p>They remain joined, and Johnny is still holding onto Daniel for dear life. </p><p>“Still with me?” Johnny asks him. </p><p>“That was intense,” Daniel replies, turning his head to look at Johnny’s face. </p><p>Johnny kisses him slowly, gently. “Too much?” he asks.</p><p>“Never too much,” Daniel answers.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Put one of those hash browns at the end and send it to the Internet!</p>
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